The Human Condition
by Wayward
Summary: The Decepticons have been struck by a terrible curse - they've been turned human. But will they look for a cure or use it to their advantage?..
1. That Old Black Magic

**That Old Black Magic**

          Thundercracker leaned against the space-bridge receiver, arms folded across his chest.  He hadn't actually moved for the last fifteen minutes.  With a sigh, he looked up at the sky and asked, "_When_ was this person supposed to show up?"

          "Another few minutes," said Skywarp.  "He isn't late yet."  Astrotrain, the bridge's guard for this duty shift, ignored the Seekers.

          "'Warp, we've been here for two hours."

          The black jet threw up his hands in exasperation.  "All right, look, I snuck up behind Soundwave while he was ejecting a couple of his lousy midgets and shouted, _'FLY, MY PRETTIES!  FLY!  FLY!'_"

          Astrotrain jumped at the sudden shout, but pinpointed the source of the noise and settled back.  Thundercracker shook his head.  "I wondered what the rush was."  Skywarp had raised the game of 'Bait Soundwave' to an art form.  Usually Soundwave would just ignore him, but sometimes it was prudent to get out of the way afterwards.  "Who are we waiting for, anyway?"

          "A Seeker named Stormcloud," Skywarp replied with a glance at the receiver.  Pulling a compad out of some compartment in his armour, he called up a screen.  "He… hmm, no, she is going to be our third."

          Thundercracker chuckled slightly.  "Remember what happened _last_ time we requested a replacement for our third?  We got Starscream."

          "Hey, say what you want; I _liked_ the Screamer."

          "You liked arguing with him.  I liked Darkshard better.  He didn't yell so much."  Skywarp and Thundercracker had joined the ranks of the Decepticon elite while Starscream was an inmate of one of the Autobot mind-prisons.  The Seeker Darkshard had been the Air Commander at the time.  Six years later, he was destroyed.  By then, the Autobots had begun to forget about the Decepticons, so Megatron finally had a chance to strike back and rescue Starscream.  Initially impressed that they were going to be teamed up with a living legend, Skywarp and Thundercracker quickly revised their opinion of the silver Seeker when he turned out to be… well… a bit loopy.

          Recently the roster had changed again.  Starscream hadn't been destroyed, but he was no longer officially on Earth.  Six weeks ago, Skywarp had been officially promoted to the Air Commander of the Decepticon Battle Fleet.  It wasn't a really solid position; if Starscream ever decided to return or was called in for a specific mission, he'd get his old job back.  Skywarp rather wished he _would_ come back; he enjoyed being a warrior, but didn't want the extra responsibilities of being the Air Commander.  Unfortunately, Megatron decided he was the one most qualified.

          As if reading his friend's thoughts, Thundercracker said, "I saw Starscream in the base this morning, actually.  Just visiting?"

          Being third in command of the Decepticon army also gave Skywarp access to information that the others weren't privy to.  "Something like that."

          A light flashed on the space-bridge's control panel, cutting off further conversation.  The three Decepticons stood back as the sky exploded in a burst of tangled lights and clouds.  It was over in seconds, leaving the receiver ring to open and allow a slightly unsteady Seeker in deep blues and purples to step through.

          Skywarp stepped forward.  "You're Stormcloud?"

          She nodded.  "I am.  Is the bridge always like… like that?"

          The black Seeker chuckled.  "You get used to it."  Then, "I'm Skywarp," he said with a bow, then waved to the others.  "This is Thundercracker; you'd better like him because he's my pal.  That is Astrotrain.  Feel free to dislike him."

          From his post, Astrotrain made a rude noise.  Stormcloud acknowledged him and the Seekers with a slight nod.  "I've been more-or-less briefed on the crew," she said, retrieving a compad from her cockpit.  She handed it to Skywarp.  "My recommendations and tech specs.  I've already been through the operation to make my Seeker-form into one like an Earth-style jet."

          Her stats were good, but that was to be expected; she _was_ joining the Decepticon elite, after all, and Megatron _did_ pick her out himself…  Skywarp would have preferred to review the choices himself, but, hey, who was he to argue with Megatron?  He handed back the compad.  "Me and TC will give you the grand tour when we get back to headquarters."  Shifting to jet-form, he said, "On the way, we'll see what you can do.  Byyyyye, Astrotraaaaain!"

* * *

          "Starscream, what are you doing?  Back off!"

          "Just looking at your head, _Lea_der.  Your helmet does a good job of covering the weld-marks where they must have removed your brain."

          The silver jet dropped back before Megatron could pivot in the air and smack him, so the Decepticon Commander settled for a glare.  "If I wanted your opinion, Starscream…"

          "Soundwave thinks you've snapped, too," said Starscream.  "He just said it in polite-speak: _Plan inadvisable._  Here, I'll get another opinion – Ramjet!  What do you think of this mission?"

          The white and black plane stayed stoically silent, but his discomfort was obvious.  From a bit farther back, Scrapper called: "_I'd_ like to know what this mission _is_."

          "Loopy."

          "Shut up, Starscream," snapped Megatron.  "And all you and yours need to know, Scrapper, is that you'll be doing some digging."

          _You won't tell them what's going on because they're noisy enough to tell you how stupid you're being,_ thought Starscream.  The strike-force was average-sized: Megatron, himself, Ramjet, Rumble, Ravage, Scrapper, Bonecrusher, and Scavenger.  Of course, the Constructicons wouldn't be part of the _real_ mission…

          The Decepticons had been flying for hours now, having crossed the North American continent and the Atlantic Ocean, they were once again over land – Europe, somewhere.  Suddenly Megatron banked and dove, landing beside a small hill in a rough, wooded area.  The others followed.

          Scavenger took one look at the hill and said, "This isn't a natural feature.  Look, you can see where the dirt's been piled up."  The other Constructicons nodded, though the other Decepticons couldn't see what details he was pointing out.  The years of English weather had washed away most traces of the work.

          Not that it mattered; the strike-force already knew it.  Megatron waved an arm at the hill.  "It's hollow.  There had been a way in…"  He looked over to Starscream.

          "Thirty-five metres to the right," grumbled Starscream.

          "… But the Autobots filled it in," Megatron finished.  "Starscream, confirm."

          The Seeker sullenly stalked over to the area indicated, running his hand over the artificial rock-slide.  "Yes, _Lea_der.  The power is still here.  I can sense it."

          "Excellent."  Megatron clapped his hands together once.  "Constructicons!  Dig the gate out, but be careful about it.  The rest of you keep watch."

          The Constructicons exchanged glances, but shrugged, shifted, and set to their task.  The other Decepticons split up to take positions around the clearing, except Starscream.  "It's too dangerous, Megatron.  Anything could go wrong."

          "Objection noted.  Take the southeast corner."

          Starscream grabbed his commander's arm and yanked him around before he could think better of it.  "_Will you listen to me for once!?_  This plan is insane!  If we change the past, we have no way of knowing how that will affect our pres… Aaagh!"

          If any of the others heard the shout and noticed Starscream on the ground with Megatron glaring down at him, they decided they didn't want to get involved.  "We've been _over_ this, Starscream."

          "Not to _my_ satisfaction," muttered the Seeker, carefully getting back to his feet.  "Or to Soundwave's, or to anyone else's who knows what you're up to."  Actually, Rumble and Ravage seemed enthusiastic enough, but Starscream didn't count them.  "I don't mind you trying to doom yourself, but leave _me_ out of it.  Hnh, I was safer back on Stormworld…"

          "Nothing is going to go wrong," said Megatron, exasperated.  "You and the others ran roughshod over the Sixth Century, and nothing changed."

          "How do _you_ know?" Starscream challenged.  "If something _did_ change, you would have changed with it.  Besides, I _know_ we won't succeed.  If we did, we wouldn't have to go through with this."

          The plan was simple enough: Some years ago, Starscream, Ramjet, Rumble, and Ravage had accidentally activated a portal that sent them fifteen-hundred years into the past.  They tore around the era until the Autobots hauled them back.  By then, Starscream's party were thoroughly sick of the Sixth Century.  Over the next few days the impossible story leaked out, and checking their chronometers showed that Starscream and the others had two extra days recorded.  Not that anyone believed it, and the incident was quickly forgotten.

          Now Megatron had the inspiration to use the time portal, return to North America, and destroy the Autobots while they hibernated.  Starscream and the others had been low on power when they went back the first time – fully charged, nothing in that time could stand in the Decepticons' way.

          It was easy.  It was foolproof.  It gave Starscream a headache just thinking about it.  Unfortunately, Megatron was in one of his moods and wouldn't listen to reason.  Apparently he had worked out all of the paradoxes in his own mind… not that he could explain them to anyone else.  There was a reason everything was being kept secret – Megatron knew full well that the rest of the Decepticons wouldn't go along with it.

          To that end, only the original four ( Starscream was pulled from his duties on Stormworld for the purposes of the mission ) who used the gate were informed, as well as Soundwave and Skywarp because of their rank.  Starscream had actually considered the plan himself, soon after his return, but gave up on it as being too risky.  There were things even _he_ wouldn't do.

          Lost in his own pessimistic musings, he only caught the tail end of Megatron's question.  "What?"

          "I was just reminding you that any attempt to destroy _my_ past-self will not be looked upon favourably."  Megatron wasn't going to let the Seeker out of his sight, of course, but he thought he'd mention it.  Just so Starscream didn't get any ideas.  Besides, he could terminate Starscream's past-self just as easily.

          Starscream smiled, but it wasn't friendly.  "You _wound_ me, Megatron.  The thought hadn't even _begun_ to cross my mind."  The thought had finished some time ago.  Starscream was still debating with himself as to whether to try to implement it or not.  He took in Megatron's stance and sighed inwardly.  _Hmm.  Not._

          The front-end loader rolled over to them and unfolded into the green and purple form of Scrapper.  "We've cleared the landslide, Megatron.  Are there any further orders?"

          "Yes.  Stay out here."  Megatron summoned Ramjet and the spy-cassettes via radio, and the strike-force proper entered the cavern.  "Starscream, activate the portal."

          "I might not remember how to do it.  I did it by accident the first time."  Catching his commander's glare, Starscream quickly turned back to the task.  His mind was a computer – of _course_ he remembered what he did to trigger the gate.  He crouched by the set of sigils carved into the rock and started tapping them in sequence.  _Stupid Megatron and his stupid plans, and stupid me for obeying him.  I should have stayed on Stormworld… except then there would be no one to yell at Megatron when this all blows up in our faces._  Starscream hit the final symbol with a bit more force than necessary.

          Nothing happened.  "Well?"

          "Look outside, _Lea_der."

          Rumble and Ravage were at the cave mouth before the rest.  "Yep, this looks right!" Rumble called back.  "More trees, standing stones, no Constructicons – We did it!"  The cassettes both ran out, followed by a more sombre Ramjet.

          Still standing by the gate controls, Starscream said, "This is our last chance to abandon this foolish quest and go back."

          "Starscream," said Megatron in his I Am To Be Obeyed voice, "I need you to do something very important, and I need you to do it _immediately_, with no questions or back-talk.  Clear?"

          Even Starscream couldn't withstand that tone.  He nodded.

          Megatron pointed his fusion cannon straight at him.  "Duck."

          The Seeker threw himself to the ground as fusion-fire lanced above his head.  Something howled behind him, then a wet thud and stillness.  Starscream cautiously looked behind himself, and collapsed again.  "You… you could have just _told_ me, Megatron."

          Megatron took another look at the fallen dragon, then hauled Starscream roughly to his feet.  "If I said it was behind you, you would have screamed, panicked, and generally been in the way."  Besides, giving Starscream a good scare early on would hopefully make him more docile for the rest of the mission.  They left the cavern to rejoin the others.

          Rumble bounced down the side of the hill, Ravage close on his heels.  "No humans around, Megatron – like it matters."

          "Excellent," smiled Megatron.  "Decepticons, to the air!  Today we…"  Suddenly, the sky went black and the ground beside him exploded with a lightning strike.  "What the..?"

          "I thought your kind wouldst return."  An old man in tattered green robes stood on the hill, looking down at the Decepticons.  "I took precautionary measures."

          "Measure _this_, flesh-creature!" shouted Starscream, firing his lasers.  To his fury, every shot missed, bending around Bayorf as if through a prism.  Still, the man was dangerous; his magic having been what stopped Starscream's earlier attempt to conquer the Sixth Century.  And even if he could protect himself from the Seeker's weapons, there were cruder ways to terminate the human.

          As if sensing the Decepticon's thoughts, a bolt of lightning hit Starscream square in the chest; not a particularly damaging attack, but it shorted his gyros and caused him to fall backwards onto Ramjet.  "Get that idiot Starscream out of here!" ordered Megatron.

          "We all gotta get out of here," Rumble opined from behind Megatron's knee.  "This is the guy who stopped us the first time."

          Megatron loosed a fusion-blast at the wizard.  "I am _not_ going to run from a flesh-creature!"

          Lightning crashed around them.  "_I_ am," announced Rumble, following Ramjet and Starscream back into the cave.

          "Cowards!  He's only one human!" shouted Megatron, though likely the others didn't hear him in the rising wind.

          Suddenly the wind rose, impossibly knocking the Decepticon Commander off his feet and back into the cavern… incidentally landing on Rumble, who hollered his protest under the clash of metal.  Somewhere Starscream laughed – "It looks like we'll be going back after all!" – though the mists made it impossible to tell where he was.

          The mists cleared.  "Are we back where we should be?"

          Starscream shook his head and managed to stand up.  "I think so, Ramjet; I can see the tread-marks left by the Constructicons…  Hey!  You followed us!"

          The second half of the sentence was directed towards the human wizard, who stood, staff raised, by the activation sigils.  _"Any Decepticon who would do harm on Earth shall be made flesh!"_ cried Bayorf, surrounding the raiding party in a nimbus of yellow light.  "See how _you_ like it."  With that, the man vanished back to his own time.

          _"Miserable flesh-creature!"_ howled Megatron as the spell took effect, twisting the Decepticon's form so it seemed almost to collapse in on itself.  "We shall return!  We'll hunt you down and…"

          "Megatron."

          At the sound of his name, Megatron automatically turned… and went sprawling when his chin met Starscream's fist coming the other way.  "You…" he started, and stopped when a hand he put against his injury came away damp and red.  One hit from Starscream caused him damage, and it _hurt_.

          _"I told you so!"_ screeched Starscream.  "You wouldn't listen to me!  You wouldn't listen to Soundwave!  _You clipped my wings, Megatron!_"  He threw himself at his commander again, who tried to bring his fusion cannon in line before remembering he didn't have it any more.

          "Well, at least our _personalities_ haven't changed," Rumble murmured to Ravage, who growled his assent.  Ravage was the easiest one to identify; while the others were human, he was still a panther.

          When he thought about it, the others were fairly easy to identify as well, if you knew what you were looking for.  Megatron was the tall, silver-haired man, and the smaller dark one shouting at him would be Starscream.  That left the dark-skinned man with the white hood as Ramjet.  As for Rumble himself… well, the ground looked a bit closer than usual, and he was wearing purple clothes rather than a paintjob, but things didn't look _too_ bad.

He crouched down to talk to his fellow ex-cassette: "I'm gonna go find the Constructicons, Ravage.  Stop those two if it looks like they're gonna cause permanent damage."  That's what Soundwave would do.  Rumble ducked out of the cave, wondering how Soundwave was going to take his and Ravage's transformation.

          Outside, Rumble didn't immediately notice the Constructicons.  He did see the three men in coveralls arguing, but it took several seconds for the voices and colours to sink in.  Rumble waved and started to walk over to them.  He didn't get very far when one – Bonecrusher, by the voice – noticed him, shouted, "Intruder!", attempted to transform, and fell on his face.

          Rumble was still laughing when Scrapper grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet.  "All right, trespasser…"

          "Put me down; I'm Rumble," Rumble managed.  "The others are inside, though I don't think any of _them_ have tried to transform.  Whoo-hoo!"

* * *

          Soundwave had carefully made sure he was on record saying he disapproved of the whole time-travel idea.  Of course, if time _did_ alter, then the record itself may never exist and… as much as he could, Soundwave scowled.  _That_ train of thought would get nowhere.  Unfortunately, once Megatron got an idea into his head, there was no stopping him.  Now Soundwave was left in charge of Decepticon Headquarters, and the rumours were flying.

          He supposed he could order them to stop, but that would make things worse, so he let it go.  Besides, Hook was the one on duty-shift in the control room, and he wasn't the type to be distracted by the silliness of the others.  And in any case, if the plan _did_ succeed, they wouldn't have a need to go through with the plan in the first place and…  _Stop it,_ he chided himself._  You'll end up crazier than Starscream if you don't stop thinking like that._  He idly wondered if he would feel reality shift when time was changed because he knew about it.  Probably not.

          The lieutenant looked down at the small device he was constructing and noticed that he was still missing a few components.  No matter; he had extras.  Soundwave turned as he stood… tried to.  The floor was where he left it, but his feet no longer reached it, and the attempt to stand sent him tumbling to the ground.

          Soundwave looked up, annoyed.  Being suddenly shrunk down to the size of one of his cassettes was _not_ how he intended to spend the day.  He tried to stand, but found his right foot wouldn't hold his weight, and thus he sat down against his table to check the damage.

          It wasn't his body.

          _Now_ Soundwave took a careful look down at himself.  Judging by the size of his furniture, he was about a fifth of his proper size.  His body felt soft, even under the cloth that covered him.  Interestingly, the cloth seemed to be coloured more or less according to his paintjob.  Reaching his hands ( they were bare, a deep shade of brown ) to his face, he found it wasn't covered by cloth, though his visor was still in the right place.  Good.  Unfortunately, his ankle was sending signals; not the usual tingle that warned of damage, but something akin to it, and stronger.  Pain.

          The lieutenant considered his options.  First order of business was to find something to use as a crutch ( maybe Rumble or Frenzy had left something lying around, ) second was to find out if this… _condition_ had happened to anyone else.  Several minutes later, first order of business got regulated to second order when his door chimed.

          Whoever it was would eventually come in if he didn't answer, anyway.  He called, "Enter," and scowled at the sound of his voice.

          The door opened and a man ran in; pale skin, jaw-length black hair, wearing a white vest, black cloak, pants, and boots, with light purple gloves.  In one hand, he carried a length of pipe which was bent ninety degrees at one end.  "Soundwave!  Nice to know that stupid things happen even to the best of us."

          "Skywarp," said Soundwave.  The other might not currently have been a Seeker jet, but the voice, attitude, and overall colour scheme were easy enough to identify.

          Skywarp goggled.  "Er, yeah.  Um, your voice sounds really wrong."  Soundwave's only reply was an annoyed silence, so Skywarp continued, "Mine's a bit off, too.  Come on, let's get down to the control room.  I left Thundercracker and Stormcloud with Hook; they can help us come up with a plan."

          "Can't walk," grumbled Soundwave.  "Damaged rotary cuff.  Can't put any weight on it."

          "Can't just ask for help, can you?" Skywarp teased.  "Which side?..  All right, come on, you big lug…"  Skywarp got an arm under the larger man's shoulders and pulled them both to a standing position.  Between the two of them, they managed to navigate the halls.

          The door to the control room was closed.  Skywarp gestured, "I'd lend you my stick here, but it's too long to be a crutch and I need it to open doors."  Then he swung the pipe so the hooked end hit the otherwise out-of-reach button.  Inaccessibility had never been a problem before; even the small Decepticons like Rumble could fly…

          Hook ( well, the tanned man in the green-and-purple coveralls who _had_ been a Constructicon ) turned from his pacing when he heard the door open, and ran over when the two humans tumbled in.  Skywarp looked up at him.  "Hook!  This is Soundwave; I think he's…  I don't know!  He damaged one of his feet, but that didn't seem to be bothering him too much.  When we got to the door, he yelled and collapsed.  You're the surgeon!"

          "Surgical _engineer_," corrected Hook, crouching down.  "Help me get him out of the doorway, at least."  Skywarp did, and they dragged Soundwave to a clear spot on the floor with reasonably good lighting.  Hook sat back on his heels and looked down at his patient.  His skills were nothing here, he didn't know enough human anatomy to even guess what might be wrong, and anything he did could cause more harm than good…

          He sighed.  "All right, you said he damaged his foot.  Which one?"  Skywarp pointed it out, so Hook settled himself by it.  Humans had always looked the same to him; hopefully their similarities would be internal as well.  Hook removed his own boot and ran his hands over his ankle, trying to determine the construction of it, and marvelling at the enhancement of his tactile sense.  As a surgical engineer he always had a certain delicacy of touch, but it was nothing compared to the amount of information he was receiving through his fingertips at this minute.

          Removing Soundwave's boot, he tried the same procedure.  There was certainly something out of alignment in the lieutenant's ankle, and much as Hook hated to do anything without full information, he gave it a sharp twist.  "There.  It's reset, though I'd prefer having something to hold it in place until whatever internal repair systems humans have kicks in.  Come here, you," he ordered, then tore a strip off of Skywarp's cape and used it to tape Soundwave's ankle.

          "Thanks lots.  I hope I'm not missing a chunk of wing when we turn back," grumbled Skywarp, inspecting his cloak.  "Doesn't look like you did all that much good, though."

          "Look, if _you_ have any better ideas, I'll be happy to hear them," snapped Hook, moving back to look at Soundwave again.  "Repairing humans is somewhat outside my experience."

          "You've still got a better chance than any of us," said Stormcloud nervously, peering over Hook's shoulder.  Thundercracker stood a few paces back.  "Can't you do something?"

          "What do you _want_ me to do?  Open him up and look for the problem?  That's my _usual_ procedure," growled Hook.  "Even if I _had_ my tools, a human wouldn't survive that!  You know how easily they terminate."

          "Are your optics malfunctioning?" snapped Skywarp.  "Look, it's obvious the damage is centred in his chest the way he's curled up like that…"

          _In his chest?..  Great Cybertron…_  "Where are his cassettes?"

          Skywarp looked blank for a second.  "Erm, Rumble and Ravage are with Megatron.  I guess the others are…  Oh, _slag_…"

          Hook was already crouched down, ear to Soundwave's chest.  "I don't hear anything obviously abnormal, and I think he feels about right.  The others must have been… absorbed into his body when he… changed."

          "Slag," repeated Skywarp with feeling.  "I never liked his nasty little midgets, but…"

          The surgical engineer looked across at Skywarp.  "There's nothing wrong with him physically.  I think he just realised what must have happened…"  He caught Soundwave by the shoulders and shook him slightly.  "Soundwave, Soundwave, get up.  _You're_ fine, but nothing can be done about your cassettes."

          "Go away," Soundwave directed, doing his best to curl into himself and ignore the world around him.

          "Oh, no you don't," said Skywarp.  "Come on, Sounder, here and now _you still function_; we're all in big trouble and we need you!"  Soundwave ignored him.  Skywarp pondered.  If logic wasn't going to get through, then there were other ways to get a reaction.  He reached down and snatched Soundwave's visor.

          The response was exactly what he wanted, though he didn't know Soundwave could move so fast.  In one motion, the lieutenant sat up, tore his visor from Skywarp's hand, and settled it back on his face.  Skywarp grinned.  "Relax.  It's just clothes now, like this stuff," he said, waving a handful of his cloak for emphasis.  "_Now_ can we start looking for everyone else?"

          No time for mourning or wondering, not when there was work to do.  "I will reset the internal scanners to look for organic life and direct you from here," conceded Soundwave.  The others helped him up to the console, then left.

* * *

          Skywarp looked over the assembly.  "Is this everyone?"

          "Everyone who was in the base," said Soundwave, looking over to Hook for confirmation.

          Hook nodded.  "Megatron's raiding party is out, of course.  Thrust and Dirge were on assignment at a power station to the north-east.  Astrotrain is on space-bridge guard-duty."  He scrambled up to the console and tapped a few keys.  "No response from Megatron.  No response from Scrapper.  No response from Thrust.  No response from…"

          "Anybody," finished Skywarp.  "Scrap.  That probably means that whatever happened to us happened to them."

          "Then I hope they were on the ground when the change hit."

          "You're a real ray of sunshine, Soundwave.  Anyone ever tell you that?"

          A large man in white and purple and gold looked up.  "Does anyone actually _have_ any idea what happened?" he asked.  Blitzwing.  "And does it have anything to do with Starscream being on Earth and/or Megatron's big, secret plan?"

          Skywarp ignored him.  "Try to raise the fringe-groups, Hook."

          The engineer set to it.  "No answer from the Stunticons, but they never answer, anyway…  hmm…  Ah, here we go – the Combaticons," said Hook as static filled the receivers.  "Audio only."

          A slightly-off – but still recognisable – voice filtered through the system: "Go away; we're experiencing technical difficulties."

          "Hiya, Onslaught," said Skywarp, settling himself by the microphone.  "Your difficulties are organic and you know it.  Switch on the video-feed; audio is _so_ impersonal."

          There was some grumbling and a muffled consultation over the connection, but the screen activated, showing two former Combaticons.  Skywarp bowed slightly from where he was kneeling on the console.  "It got you too, whatever 'it' is.  Care to help us find out?"

          "We're a bit busy, what with basic survival and all," jeered the other Combaticon ( probably Swindle by his voice and colours. )  "We're only in a far-too-large military base, not stocked for human needs, in the middle of the desert.  The others are in here someplace, but we haven't found them yet."

          "But if you do find the being responsible for our condition, save a piece for us," finished Onslaught darkly.  The connection cut.

          "Rude," snorted Skywarp.  "Okay, Hook, try the…"  The console beeped.  "Or answer that."

          The engineer hit the button, allowing another audio message to come through: "This is Astrotrain.  If you want this blasted space-bridge guarded, you can send someone else!"

          "Relax, Astrotrain; we've all got the same problem."  Skywarp sighed.  There was going to be a _lot_ of explaining to do, and, unfortunately, his guess was as good as anyone's as to what happened.

* * *

          "Well, a fat lot of help _they_ were."  If Whiptail still had his namesake, he would have lashed it angrily.  As it was, the ex-scorpion settled for shaking his long, red hair.  "First they tell us they don't know what's going on, then they cut us off!"

          "I take it this sort of thing doesn't happen often, hmm?"

          Kickback peered down the twelve-foot drop of the console to where Sway was standing.  "The Decepticons cutting us off is pretty normal, actually.  Same with getting us into strange situations."  He looked down at himself critically.  "Nothing _this_ strange before, though."

          Soundwave had found the override for the base's interior doors, and left them all open. At the moment, everyone was more worried about accessibility than privacy. Most of the Decepticons were still in the control room, but Kickback and Sway had snuck out after Skywarp had checked in with their main force in Bali. Now they were in the secondary communications office, Kickback sitting on the console, channel open to the Insecticon base, talking to Whiptail.

          Much to Kickback's relief, the Bali Insecticons ( Ripsaw, Tangeweb, and Whiptail ) seemed fine.  They had a few advantages over the other Decepticons: Their base's systems were more accessible due to their size, and the base was in a swamp rather than underwater.  Mentally, the adjustment was easier as well – Insecticons already had quasi-organic thoughts.

          Not that they were happy about it.  Kickback sighed.  _I returned to Earth because I was getting bored in the Hive – I'm a warrior, and Coleop hasn't many uses for that.  I haven't the patience to teach, so I took on the travel job of Insecticon Emissary.  Of course, this isn't the type of excitement I wanted!_  Fortunately, the Insecticons had been in or near the base and had easily regrouped.  Unfortunately, they were all looking to _him_ for leadership.

Addressing the monitor, he said, "It's a pretty safe bet to blame the Decepticons for this, but they got hit by it too, so we won't take it out on them.  What you should probably do is find a human settlement and blend in.  However, Sway and I will stay with the Decepticons and try to help them find a way out of this.  Take care of yourselves.  Kickback out."

Kickback jumped to the chair, then to the floor, not trusting his new body to absorb the impact of the full distance.  "Nothing more we can do here, Sway," he sighed.  "Let's go see if the big guys have come up with anything."

* * *

          "They're going to kill us."

          "They will do nothing of the sort," said Megatron.  "I have a plan."

          "They are going to kill us."

          "Both of you _shut up_," snapped Megatron.  Starscream had been prophesying doom ever since they had started looking for civilisation and a computer or a phone or _anything_ that could connect them to the Decepticon base.  Ten minutes ago, Ramjet began to add his deep voice to Starscream's scratchy one – pessimism in stereo.  Megatron found it incredibly annoying.

          The others were all behaving themselves; Rumble and Ravage were talking quietly to one another… Rumble was talking, anyway.  Soundwave and his cassettes used to talk amongst themselves via internal radio, but now the panther Ravage could only answer in growls.  The Constructicons were quiet, which was worrisome in itself.  The three were walking behind the others, not speaking, not even to each other, not even looking at one another.  Scavenger was holding very tightly to the sleeves of the other two though, which perhaps said more than any words could.

          Ramjet looked up.  "There is a telephone attached to that pole."

          Probably put there for stuck motorists.  Well, in a way the Decepticons had lost their vehicles.  Not that they ever bothered to justify themselves when it came to borrowing human equipment.  "Finally.  Rumble, use that to raise the others at headquarters," said Megatron.

          "They're going to kill us," said Starscream.  "They're going to kill us, so I think I'll say 'I told you so' now, just to avoid the rush…  Aaack!"  Megatron's backhand knocked the smaller man to the ground.

          "And _I_ told _you_ to shut up," said Megatron, rubbing the back of his hand, then stopped.  Human pain was a sign of human weakness.  The fact that Starscream would be feeling more of it didn't really click in; from Megatron's viewpoint, all he knew was that the hit didn't make its usual satisfying 'clang'.  "Rumble!  Have you made the connection?"

          "It's ringin'," said Rumble.  "I'm pretty sure I've got…  Soundwave, boss!  It's me, Rumble!  Boy, your voice is weird…  Yeah, me and Ravage are fine.  How's everything down..?  Oh.  Oh, _slag_.  I…  We'll be there as soon as we can, boss…  Hold up; Megatron's glaring at me.  Here, I'll put him on."

          Megatron took the proffered phone, ignoring the dark look from Rumble.  Starscream noticed it, though – _Megatron seems to be losing allies quickly, if our small sample is any indication._  He sighed.  _If ever the crew was ready for mutiny, it would be now… and I can't do a thing with it!_  Starscream might have had his duties on Stormworld, but old habits were hard to break.  Besides, his jaw physically – impossibly – hurt, and he was in no mood to be loyal.  He sidled a bit closer to where Megatron was speaking to Soundwave; perhaps he could gauge the lieutenant's mood by his commander's responses…

          "… a way to use this to our advantage.  They'll never expect it…  It _will_ work, Soundwave.  We should have done it as soon as we awakened on this lousy planet, except we didn't know human nature well enough to think of it…  We'll deal with that _later_, Soundwave; first I need you to tap into the Earth computer system…"

          _To be continued…_


	2. On The Road Again

**On The Road Again**

          When the Decepticons heard the explanation, they were _not_ happy.

          They had little reason to be happy – they were all stuck in human form due to magic.  It had taken them two hours to regroup… those that _could_ regroup.  The Stunticons couldn't be contacted, the Combaticons told the Decepticons to get lost, and the Insecticons were in Bali, which could have been another planet for all the good they could do.  Thrust and Dirge were missing as well; the change hit while they were on an energy raid and their fates were unknown.  Astrotrain was probably still at the space-bridge.  Megatron and his strike force were still in England somewhere.  All in all, it wasn't shaping up to be a good day.

          Fortunately, the Decepticon base was equipped to deal with human guests, for those few occasions there were any.  However, it was impossible to stay there due to size problems ( Soundwave and Hook managed to get everything set to voice-control, which helped, but not enough, ) so they were considering relocating to the mainland and finding a land-base.  This was easier than it sounded when the idea was first broached – before leaving their base, the Decepticons tapped into assorted human computer systems, giving them access to whatever funding they needed.  Everything else could be dealt with later.

          Except…  they actually had to get _out_ of the base first.  Decepticon Headquarters was underwater, and while fairly close to the coastline, none of the Decepticons could swim.  They never had to before.  Skywarp sighed.  Currently, he and Soundwave were in charge of the main force… except that Soundwave was being even less talkative than usual, leaving Skywarp feeling rather put-upon.  He sat in the chair at the console, cross-legged, looking down at the general assembly.  "Any suggestions?"

          "Yeah!  Contact Cybertron and have them send someone down," yelled Blitzwing.

          "Inadvisable," muttered Soundwave, still working on the console with Hook.

          "What'd he say?"

          "He says you're a moron, Blitz," Skywarp translated.  "Think about it – this dumb curse hit all us Decepticons.  If another shows up, he might get zapped, too.  And if he doesn't… well, is there _anyone_ you trust enough to let them see you this way?"

          The crowd grumbled amongst themselves and fidgeted for a few minutes.  Any friends close enough were members of the elite – and therefore on Earth.  For the most part.  "Call the Insecticons on Coleop," suggested Kickback.  "The worst Shrapnel and them will do is laugh at us."

          Getting laughed at by Insecticons wasn't high on Skywarp's list of preferred things to happen.  Besides… "Uh-uh.  They'd have to go through two space-bridges to get here, and Shockwave rarely lets anyone through without an explanation.  Your pals might not do anything nasty to us, but you Insecticons have a habit of opening your mouths.  You really think they could get here without gloating about it?"  Kickback started to protest, but stopped.  He knew his friends, and Skywarp was right.

          "Send for a neutral, then," said Stormcloud eventually.  "They won't be affected, nor will they have any designs against us."

          Skywarp nodded absently.  "Getting warmer I'd say, except that most neutrals just want the war to end, and one way to do that is to remove one army.  Hey, Hook!"  Hook peered down, so Skywarp continued, "We have any sort of transports here?  I don't know – a mini-shuttle or something to get us out of the base at least?"

          "What did we ever need one for?" demanded Hook.  "We even scrapped the space-bridge transport pods for parts when we stopped using them."

          "Maybe we could re-work an unused body-shell into somethin'," Longhaul called up.  "We always have a couple sitting around in the shop."  Beside him, Mixmaster made a razzing noise.  Longhaul shrugged.  "It's worth a shot."

          "Okay, now we're getting somewhere," Skywarp announced.  "Right.  Let's see… you two Insecticons get up here and do whatever Soundwave tells you to.  The rest of us are going to help the Constructicons do their thing."  It would keep everyone busy, at least.

* * *

          "Is _this_ everyone?"

          "The main force, except for Thrust and Dirge," agreed Skywarp.  The two planes still hadn't been located, and neither had the Stunticons.  The Insecticons seemed fine where they were.  In a rare show of sympathy, the Combaticons allowed Astrotrain to stick with them until he was picked up by the Decepticons.

          "It seems like less," said Thundercracker, turning back to the window.

          It was five days after the curse had taken effect.  It had taken that long to rework a jet body-shell into a voice-controlled transport and collect the others.  Now the Decepticons were in temporary control of a small meeting hall in a coastal city to plan their next move.  Not that everyone was in attendance.

          At least Megatron was back, which suited Skywarp fine.  Megatron always knew what to do.  Not that anyone else seemed to be agreeing at the moment.  Starscream had already stormed out, after shouting his usual threats about the Decepticons needing new leadership.  And while many of the others were inclined to agree with him, none followed.  Megatron got them into this mess, and they would see him get them out of it.

          Skywarp took a quick look around the hall.  Soundwave wasn't anywhere to be seen, though Skywarp didn't blame him.  The lieutenant had enough problems right now without having to deal with anyone else's.  The Constructicons had vanished somewhere.  Megatron was conspicuously absent as well.

          Which didn't really leave a lot of Decepticons, all things considered.  There was Thundercracker, beside him as usual, looking out the window.  There was Stormcloud, talking with Blitzwing and Astrotrain.  There was Rumble, sitting on the floor with an arm draped around Ravage's feline shoulders.  There was Ramjet, standing stoically by himself in the corner.  There were Kickback and Sway, chatting together and occasionally snickering at some Insecticon joke.  And Reflector…

          _Now there's a weird case,_ Skywarp mused.  He had rather expected the spy to end up triplets, but Reflector the human was only one man.  Rather twitchy, always looking about, but still only a single being.  Of course, Reflector had _always_ been only one being – he usually had three bodies, but only one mind looked out from behind six optics.  Skywarp didn't know much about him… no one did, really.  Reflector was simply _there_, doing minor tasks and answering in his three voices.  Some sort of failed gestalt, or just a bizarre experiment…

          A door opened and Megatron walked in, carefully schooling his expression before anyone saw it.  Or at least so he thought.  Skywarp quickly looked away to avoid getting caught.  _Great Cybertron, Soundwave must have really put him through the wringer._  Justifiable, yes, but Skywarp couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for his commander.  Not that Megatron would appreciate the sympathy.

* * *

          Starscream walked.  There wasn't much else for him to do.  Unfortunately, he'd been walking for several hours, and had no idea of where he was going.  Or what he was going to do now.

          He'd left the city limits almost forty minutes ago, and was walking along the shoulder of a lightly-travelled road.  Cars had passed him, and one person had actually stopped and asked if he wanted a lift, but Starscream was too angry to accept charity.  Now he was starting to regret turning down the offer.

          He shouldn't have left, not until he had a plan, but Megatron was just being so _stupid_!  He wanted to _use_ the curse, rather than putting his efforts towards a cure!  As what always happened when they disagreed, he and Megatron shouted at each other, and Starscream left in a huff.  However, this time he couldn't just fly off anywhere; he had to walk, a mode of locomotion he was learning to loathe.

          Lost in his thoughts, Starscream didn't notice the car until it screeched to a halt, blocking his path and nearly running over his toes.  The driver grinned and peeked over his sunglasses at him.  "Hey, stranger.  Need a lift?"

          It took a second for Starscream to return to the present and identify the man.  "Rumble.  If Megatron's sent you to bring me back, you can…"

          "Ahh, keep yer coolant," said Rumble, leaning over to open the passenger door.  "Megatron didn't send me, Soundwave did.  He hates bein' human more than you do, and he sent me to help you out."

          "Right.  What can _you_ do for _me_?"

          "I can give you a lift."

          Starscream couldn't argue with that.  He got into the car.  Rumble waited for him to figure out the seatbelt before getting back on the road.  "Where to?"

          "I don't know."  Starscream leaned back in the seat, just glad to have the weight off his feet.  "The Combaticons would be the closest, I think, and they don't like being human…  Except they've already refused to help us.  Is it just Soundwave on my side?"

          "Most don't like it," said Rumble, "but they're stickin' with Megatron because it's safe.  They don't know how to be human, and he's put together a fairly tight cover story.  That dumb Skywarp's enjoying himself, but I think he's the worst case.  The Constructicons walked out an hour after you."

          "They _did_?"  The Constructicons were some of the more loyal warriors in the army.

          Rumble nodded, not looking away from the road.  "Yep.  As soon as their gang got back together, they locked themselves in a room for an hour.  When they came out, they told Megatron off and left."  He chuckled.  "They're in _so_ much trouble when we change back to our real forms."

          Opening his eyes, Starscream looked over at Rumble.  "What do you think of all this?"

          He shrugged.  "I wouldn't mind it much, really, 'cept that Soundwave don't like it, and… and Frenzy, Buzzsaw, and Laserbeak were inside Soundwave when it happened.  They just… just vanished," he finished quietly.

          "I… didn't know."  While Starscream wasn't a sympathetic creature and didn't like Soundwave at the best of times, what happened to the lieutenant and his spy-cassettes was pure horror.  In the uncomfortable silence, Starscream tried to distract his attention by rifling through the glove compartment.  Pulling out a small folder, he asked, "You have a driver's license?"

          "A fake one," agreed Rumble cheerfully.  "Soundwave whomped up some fake ID for the gang.  I've got a credit card, too.  It's a little more complicated than what you did."  In the five days between the curse taking effect and the Decepticons re-grouping, Megatron's strike-force had waited in a hotel… after Starscream had hacked the computer system to say that, yes, they _did_ have a reservation.

          Starscream shuffled through the wallet.  "This isn't your name."

          "Duh.  How far am I gonna get tellin' people my name is 'Rumble'?"

          He had a point.  Still, a name should imply function and personality.  What _was_ an 'Edward Roberts'?  Starscream asked and Rumble shrugged again.  He just liked the sound of it, and that seemed to be what humans went by, anyway.  "You should put together a human identity for yourself, too.  I can call Soundwave and get him to do it."

          "But I don't _want_ a…"  He would need one.  Starscream sighed.

          "Want to know what the others are callin' themselves?"

          "Not really."

* * *

          They had to stop at a hotel for a few days, so that they had a fixed address to have Starscream's identification sent to.  And, as he grudgingly admitted to himself, he would never have made it even _this_ far without Rumble's help.  The spy-cassettes, by their function, saw more of humans than the other Decepticons did, so Rumble had an idea of class distinctions and how to act around people.

          He did it fairly well, too.  A little knowledge went a long way when one had the proper persona.  In Rumble's case, he was a type of corporate scout; his official job seemed to be to tear around the country and do things for his parent company.  Humans were easily impressed ( and thus controlled ) by the appearance of power – Rumble and Starscream were still Decepticons inside, and their former experience and power clung to their human forms.

          "Hey, think fast!"

          Starscream caught the envelope that Rumble flipped to him and removed the contents.  He reviewed the counterfeit papers with a sigh.  "It's official.  I'm human.  Oh, Cybertron, the entire force of the Decepticon elite struck down by a stupid curse!"

          "Relax.  You won't get anythin' done if you short yourself out," Rumble said, picking up an apple from a bowl on the table.  "Besides, Megatron thinks he's got a way to use this to our advantage."  Starscream might have been happy to lounge about and mope, but Rumble kept in close contact with Soundwave, at least in part to keep up on events.  The Decepticons had relocated inland, for one thing.

          The taller man slumped back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.  "I know, I _know_.  He told me about it – that's why I left.  Selling our technology to the humans for natural resources to send to Cybertron is just asking for trouble."

          Rumble took a bite out of the apple.  "Just minor stuff; no weapons.  He's not dumb."

          "'Dumb' is too mild a word.  And _must_ you do that?"

          "Do what?"

          Starscream leaned back and closed his eyes again.  "Eat in front of me.  That's disgusting."

          "Humans eat socially.  Deal with it."  But Rumble put the apple down.  Starscream might have had some weird hang-ups, but Soundwave insisted his spy co-operate with him, so he would.  "It's just refuelling.  I dunno; pretend you're an Insecticon or somethin'."

          The other made a rude noise.  Starscream hated everything that had to do with the maintenance of his human body, and would put things like eating and sleeping off until necessity forced him to do it.  If that wasn't bad enough, he wouldn't touch any food that wasn't processed until its natural form was unrecognisable.  He was an absolute nuisance to look after and Rumble several times considered just abandoning him, but orders were orders…  "Hey, look, we gotta get going.  We've been hangin' around too long as it is."

          "Now what?"

          Rumble grinned and leaned against the doorjamb behind him.  "I'm really a double-agent.  Megatron knows I'm with you, but he don't know that I'm really here to help you find a cure.  Still, we gotta do some stuff for him to keep up appearances.  Our official assignment is to bail out Thrust and Dirge."

          Collecting up his identification, Starscream asked, "'Bail out'?  Soundwave found them?  Where are they?"

          "In jail," chortled Rumble.  "They were on an energy-raid when they got changed, and the security staff arrested them.  Our job is to give large amounts of money to those in charge and send those dumb cone-heads back to the main force."

          "Ah, bribery."  Starscream felt a little more comfortable.

          Rumble shook his head.  "Not bribe, 'bail'.  We buy their freedom and it's all legal."

          "I am _never_ going to understand humans…"

* * *

          "Lawyer?  We have a lawyer?"

          Thrust watched curiously as an arrogant, dark-skinned man in a deep red suit pushed past the security guard.  "The Company sent me.  _You_ may go," said the man, addressing his second remark to the guard, who glared and left.  He nodded to the two in the cell: "Now then, Thrust, Dirge, you can begin by telling me everything you told the humans so that I can begin damage control."

          Curiousity changed to staring incredulity as the former plane recognised the voice: "Sta… _Starscream?_"

          "Very _good_.  Don't let the humans hear you call me that.  Here."  Starscream slipped a small rectangle of light cardstock through the bars.  "My business card.  Call me this name."  When Thrust's only response was to stand there with his mouth hanging open, Starscream sighed.  "Look, we were all hit with a magical curse that turned us human.  We've set up base in Central City for now.  We'll arrange transportation for you as soon as Rumble negotiates your release."

          This time, Thrust _did_ speak: _"Rumble?"_

          "Refer to him as 'Roberts'," said Starscream shortly.  "Now then, I only have a few minutes to fill you in on your new identities.  Save your other questions until we're out of here.  Now, what did you tell the humans?"

* * *

          As it turned out, Thrust had in fact told the police his and Dirge's real names.  However, he also claimed to be a Decepticon warrior and was, for obvious reasons, disbelieved.  The idea seemed to be that they were just a couple of nuts who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, so the damage Thrust's admission could cause seemed to be minor.  Still, Soundwave informed them that the Decepticons would keep an eye on it.

          Rumble snapped his cell phone closed and flopped back on his bed.  "Not too shabby for our first time out."

          Leaning on the frame of the door that connected their rooms, looking past him out the window, Starscream grumbled, "There'd better not be many _more_ times."

          "Aw, come on, it was fun.  Even in these squishy little bodies, we're still better than the humans."

          Starscream glared at him.  "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were enjoying yourself."  And he _did_ know better.  Despite the spy's upbeat attitude, there were some things that couldn't be hidden… like the amount of time he spent on the phone with Soundwave, or the fact that Starscream caught him napping a few times and knew that Rumble slept curled up as small as possible, preferably with the blankets up over his head.

          "As much as I can, despite wanting to be _me_ again," agreed Rumble, sitting up.  "C'mon, think about it, Starscream: Clothes feel nice, food tastes good, and no one's trying to shoot us.  Even on the business side 'a things, the Autobots have no idea where we are or what we're doing, so they don't know how to stop us.  Besides, it's kind of neat having the humans do all our work for us."

          "Megatron must love that."  He always _did_ have a taste for irony… which got the Decepticons in trouble more than once.  Starscream shook his head.  People did what Decepticon warriors told them to do because they were afraid of them.  Humans would work for them, but they'd run away at the first opportunity.  As humans, the Decepticons commanded respect because of the force of their personalities – even the youngest of their number had several thousand years of conscious existence, and that kind of experience couldn't be hidden in a human shell.

          But humans worked for them now.  Out of _choice_.  Starscream, of course, didn't trust it one bit.  "Has Megatron a new assignment for us?"

          Rumble nodded.  "Yep.  We're supposed to head south to start looking for a new place to set up headquarters.  Central's too close to the Autobots for everyone's liking."

          "Oh, joy."

* * *

          "Didn't you once go to the planet where the people could change shape due to a magical pool of water?"

          "Don't even think about it, Starscream.  'Sides, how're we supposed to _get_ there?" asked Rumble.  He wasn't going to add that he himself had fallen into the Well of Transformation, and was tricked into becoming a tree.  _No one_ knew about that… well, Soundwave did, of course, but he wouldn't tell so Rumble figured that didn't count.

          They were on the road again, headed south.  Rumble had offered to teach Starscream how to drive, but was turned down.  It was bad enough that he had to ride around in something that looked like an Autobot.  It hadn't yet occurred to Starscream that he would be very stranded if Rumble ever got tired of him and left him somewhere.

          "I've got it!"

          The sudden declaration startled Rumble, who managed to keep the car on the road, but swerved and scraped along the side of the gray car to the left of them.  "Don't _do_ that, Starscream!  Now look what you made me do!"  Annoyed, he pulled over to the shoulder behind the other car.  _Better to try to patch things up now rather than risk a criminal record.  We wouldn't want to draw any negative attention towards ourselves…_

          Rumble grabbed his wallet from the glove compartment and riffled through it as he walked to the other car.  "Insurance information… insurance information…  Hey, buddy, sorry about gettin' Ford on your Chevy…  Oh, _scrap_."

          The gray car _unfolded_.  Rumble jumped back, automatically searching for the mental trigger that would extend the pile-drivers on his arms.  While the trigger still existed, it no longer connected to anything.

          Fortunately, Bluestreak misunderstood the man's terror.  "Easy, friend.  Sorry about startling you like that."

          _'Startled' don't begin to cover it,_ thought Rumble, trying to recollect his wits.  _This is the test then, Rumble – you're a spy, get sneaky._  Holding back his panic about being in such a potentially dangerous situation, Rumble held up his license for inspection.  "Er, hi.  This is kinda the first time I've been in a car accident.  I think we're supposed to swap insurance information now, but, ah…"

          The Autobot grinned and waved it away.  "Don't worry about it; I've had worse.  Drive carefully – next time you might not sideswipe someone so understanding."  With that, Bluestreak shifted back to car-mode and sped away.

          Rumble shook his head and walked back to his car.  Starscream was still there, face buried in his hands: "Doomed, doomed, doomed, doomed…"

          "I took care of the big, bad 'Bot.  You can open your eyes now."

          Starscream looked up, and realising the Autobot was gone, glared at Rumble.  "Of all the vehicles you had to sideswipe…"

          "Didn't recognise me and let me off with a warnin'," said Rumble happily, pulling back onto the road.  "And it was _you_ who made me crash, so there.  What were you saying?"

          Starscream mentally rewound to the conversation before their literal run-in with Bluestreak.  "It should be possible to build new Transformer bodies for ourselves, then upload our minds into them.  It's all just electric patterns."  He chuckled slightly.  "We can even give ourselves improvements while we're at it."

          "Hmm, not bad, I suppose.  It won't help Frenzy and the birds any, but…"  Rumble stopped, determined to remain positive.  Soundwave was depressed enough for all of them.  "Maybe I'll finally be able to convince the boss to upgrade to DVDs.  Except that we haven't got the equipment for either buildin' new shells or doing mind-switchy things.  We could do it real easy on Cybertron, sure, but we don't want anyone back home to know what happened to us."

          "We can build the equipment here, on Earth," said Starscream.  "It should be feasible."

          "Uh-huh, and what about Megatron?"

          The dark man made a face.  "Megatron can go jump off a bridge for all I care; I'll get my wings back despite him.  Still, I can't create the equipment myself.  Not in this form."  Starscream considered that, then said, "Where's your cell-phone."

          "In the glove compartment.  What're you up to now?"

          "I'm calling Soundwave.  If anyone can find the Constructicons, he can.  And if anyone can build Decepticon shells and transfer equipment despite being trapped in flesh-creature form, it's the Constructicons."

          _To be continued…_


	3. Working For A Living

**Working For A Living**

          What with one thing and another, the Constructicons had made their way east, and, deciding to put a national boundary between themselves and Megatron, had found themselves in Toronto, Canada.  They had taken up residence in a type of boarding-house run by a rather short, rather overweight, and very opinionated woman who introduced herself as Mrs D'Angelo.  At first she tried to turn the Constructicons away when Hook answered the ad, stating that she didn't approve of 'that kind of relationship.'  Apparently Hook did the right thing by looking completely confused, because he managed to acquire the space.

          While they could have pulled the same trick as the Decepticons – hacking the human computer network for whatever funding they needed – Soundwave or another would easily track that.  Besides, the Constructicons would have quickly become bored.  Deep within themselves, they enjoyed working, and fortunately their profession of choice was reasonably easy to get into.

          Casual inquiries around job-sites ( there was always someone with nothing better to do hanging around and willing to talk your ear off ) had pointed them in the direction of the local carpentry union, and the union hall secretary told them that the major construction project at the moment was setting up bleachers at a place called 'The Ex'.  This suited the Constructicons fine.

* * *

          "Hi…"

          "Melissa, Second Year, I've never been a man in carpentry before so I couldn't compare it, yes, he doesn't mind."

          Scavenger blinked a couple of times.  "What?"

          Scrapper had instructed the Constructicons to talk to the humans, if only to help them fit in.  Scavenger had thought that the one female in the group of workers hanging around the trailer/office seemed like a harmless target to practice Conversational Skills With Humans with.  She looked up from her book.  "Answers to the usual FAQ: What's your name?  What Year are you?  What's it like being a woman in carpentry?  Do you have a boyfriend?  What does he think of your choice of profession?"  She extended a hand.  "In case you missed it, I'm Melissa.  I've answered to every variation, but I prefer it full."

          It was a start, at least.  Scavenger took the offered hand and told her the name he'd adopted as a human.  "But I'm usually called 'Scavenger'.  I've been doing construction work for as long as I can remember.  I've worked with females before and never saw it as unusual.  I'm here with my friends, all of whom are male.  They don't have a problem with me working here."

          "If they were really your friends, they'd tell you to get off this site while you still can."  She paused, considering.  "Sarcasm.  I was here two years ago and hated it."

          Ah, yes, complaining about work.  Scavenger felt almost at home.  "What's wrong with it?"

          The carpenter shrugged in the direction of the half-made stands.  "Aside from waking up at an ungodly hour, an hour-long commute on the TTC, ten to fourteen hour days – seven days a week – in the blazing heat, hand-cramps so severe I can't move my fingers in the morning, and the mind-numbing tedium of aluminium-slinging?  Plenty.  Months of work, literally _thousands_ of man-hours go into making these hideous bleachers.  They stay up for three days, where they are soiled with the sodden filth of the unwashed masses.  Then we take them down as a vast monument to futility."  She made an exasperated noise.  "If that doesn't make you want to become a nihilist, I don't know _what_ will."

          "Why come, then?"

          "Pfft – why else?  I need the money."

* * *

          The day wasn't nearly as bad as Melissa had predicted.  It was going to be a twelve hour shift, but the day was overcast so the heat wasn't a big problem.  The work _was_ mindless, though – hand-bombing ( passing along a human chain ) sheets of aluminium up the scaffold to make the floor of the grandstands.

          It struck them as somewhat ironic that the stands were for a car race.  Finding himself ( Scavenger ) on the same crew as Melissa ( and Hook, and Scrapper, as well as two other humans who introduced themselves as Greg and Walt, ) he had asked if any Autobots were involved.  She'd given him a strange look, then laughed.  "Are you kidding?  This is Canada.  We don't get giant alien robots here."  Then, considering, "I'd actually show up for the stupid race if they did, though.  Maybe next we could have the Decepticons participate in the air show."

          Scavenger handed her another aluminium sheet, which she swung up to the human laying them in place.  "That _was_ sarcasm, right?"

          "Pfft – of course.  I'd love to be able to talk with an alien, I just don't want to get stepped on while I'm at it."

          "But…  Oof!"  A sheet from Scrapper hit him a bit harder than usual, and, catching the hint, Scavenger changed the subject.

* * *

          They caught up to the other Constructicons at the end of the day, at the office/trailer.  "You would not be_lieve_ what some of these people do for fun," started Mixmaster.  "Smoking.  What _idiot_ decided that inhaling dangerous and vile-smelling substances was enjoyable?"

          "You didn't exactly make a friend back there," said Bonecrusher.

          Hook followed his gaze to the indicated human, then turned back.  "What did he do?"

          Longhaul snorted.  "Accepted a cigarette, took one puff, analysed the chemical composition of the smoke, and started lecturin' the guy.  Wouldn't shut up, either."  He rolled his eyes.  "Sheesh, c'mon, Mixmaster – anything that gets rid of humans is fine by me."

          "_I_ wouldn't shut up?" demanded Mixmaster.  "For goodness sakes, _you_ were standing on the other side of that _bozo_ who kept _yammering_ on about his favourite _strippers_, as if naked people were interesting!  Near as _I_ can determine, _all_ humans look pretty much the same without their clothes."

          "Where would you find that out?" asked Hook with a quizzical expression.

          Mixmaster shrugged.  "Television's full of it.  Swearing is kind of fun, though.  They've got some sort of obsession with bodily functions, these humans…"

          "Comes 'a bein' organic," said Longhaul sagely, then, noticing Scrapper, waved him over.  "Okay, there's you.  Anyone seen the Scrounge?"

          "I'm here," said Scavenger, behind him.  "Sorry.  Melissa waylaid me and wanted to know if it was worth her time to try to mooch a ride off of us."  He shrugged.  "It isn't."

          Slinging his knapsack over his shoulder, Bonecrusher asked, "Speaking of which, where'd you park the van, Hook?  Let's get out of here; I'm starving."

          As it turned out, it was parked next to one of the big, orange crane/forklift machines.  Mixmaster kicked one of its tires and chuckled.  "This thing remind you of anyone?"

          "Heh, yeah," said Scrapper, tossing his toolbox on the floor by his seat and pulling himself in.  "Looks sort of like Clinch's transform.  What happened to him, anyway?"

          Hook started the van.  "Dead.  About five million years ago.  Rumble collapsed a building on him."  He shrugged slightly.  "Clinch was an Autobot, remember?"

          "Oh.  Yes."

* * *

          Mixmaster stared accusingly at his half-full coffee cup.  "I don't understand.  It tastes foul, I know it's doing nasty things to this fleshy form of mine, but I can't stop drinking it."

          "Welcome to the wonderful world of cravings," said Hook in mock toast before taking another swig of his own drink and grimacing.  "What was the active ingredient again?"

          "Caffeine," replied the chemist.  "Keeps you awake when your body – which quite often knows better than your brain – knows full well it's time to sleep."  One skill the Constructicons hadn't quite mastered yet was cooking, and thus found themselves eating out a lot.  Their restaurant of choice was a small diner a few blocks away from the boarding-house; the food wasn't great, but it was inexpensive and there were free refills on coffee, a substance on which they'd quickly found themselves addicted to.

          "I kind of like it," said Scavenger.

          Longhaul cast a critical look at the assorted debris around Scavenger's mug.  "That's because you put all that sweet stuff in it."

          "Why not?  If I'm going to ingest it, I might as well like the taste of it," Scavenger pointed out reasonably.  "Besides, it doesn't cut the effectiveness of the caffeine."

          "Unless you pour so much sweetener in that there's no room for the coffee, yes?" chuckled Mixmaster, who sipped his own and made a face.  "Yecch.  I think the Scrounge has the right idea.  Pass the cream."

          The waitress arrived then with their food, and almost managed not to openly stare at Mixmaster, who had downed one of the little cream packets, and was now speculating out loud about how much liquid, exactly, was left in his coffee cup.  Once she left, Scrapper shook his head.  "I think you scared the waitress."

          "_How_ am I supposed to optimize the flavour of my drink unless I know _exactly_ what the sweetener tastes like and how, precisely, it affects the coffee?  If my numbers are accurate, I'll be able to derive a working formula to perfectly sweeten my coffee in the future."

          "He's got you there, Scrapper," said Bonecrusher.  "I think."

          "I pour three of the little things in," said Scavenger helpfully.

* * *

          "_YEEOUCH!_  Slag it…"

          At the shout, Scrapper ran into the kitchen to find Hook running water over his hand and methodically grumbling in Cybertronian… as best he could with human vocal chords.  "What happened?"

          "I forgot that I'm not made of metal," growled Hook.  "Stupid, stupid, stupid…  Could you move that pot off the element?  Wrap a towel around the handle first."

          Scrapper did, and turned off the burner.  "What _is_ all this?"

          "I am attempting to cook.  I'm getting tired of the fare at the diner."  When Scrapper looked sceptical, Hook continued: "Look, it isn't that hard.  I borrowed a book off of Mrs D'Angelo, and it gives specific directions."

          "Oh, you're _so_ good at following directions," taunted Scrapper.  "You change _my_ designs all the time."

          "That's because I know better than you," replied Hook, trying to echo the tone, but failing.  Removing his hand from the stream of water, he glared at it and grumbled, "I've never felt pain before in my life.  I'm likely getting it worse than a human who's used to it."

          It was Scrapper's opinion that Hook was a chronic complainer and probably wasn't that badly damaged.  Still…  "Let's see it…  Hrmm…  I think you'll live," said Scrapper after inspecting Hook's hand.  "It's just a bit discoloured.  Mrs D'Angelo's human; maybe she knows something about basic repairs."

          Hook scowled as the other left.  "I shouldn't have warned you about the hot pot handle."

* * *

          The sheet slammed into Bonecrusher's hands with a bit more force than strictly necessary.  "Hey!"

          Rhodes returned the glare.  "Wake up, moron.  Better've been a good party if you're this wiped this morning."

          The Constructicon entertained a brief fantasy about pushing the human off the scaffold, but Scrapper and the others would get mad.  "Me and a couple of the others stayed up too late watching a movie," he explained instead.  It was true enough – the idea of acting as entertainment had never really caught on back on Cybertron, and the Constructicons found the concept interesting.  Besides, _this_ movie had been worth it.

          "I didn't think there was anything good on," said Rhodes.  "What was it?"

          It was probably lucky that the carpenter had turned and couldn't see Bonecrusher's smile.  "'Killdozer'."

* * *

          "Two weeks!  I carried a ladder for two weeks!"

          "Yeah, but at least you got to climb the ladder and do stuff."

          "Only to polish ceiling tracks."  The chunk of aluminium that served as a bench didn't slot in immediately, so Melissa brought her boot down on it.  "Well, okay, they let me use the rivet-staple-gun-thing in the last couple days, but mostly it was ladder-carrying."

          Longhaul pushed a plastic end-cap into place, then slotted the bench he was carrying into it.  "Better than _I_ ever do.  I got the same experience as them, and they _still_ never let me do anything – not if there's anything to carry."

          "Another place, I was the Elevator Guy.  Of course, this was after I hauled in all the girders and stuff from outside…"

          "Fetch this, bring that, as if I got nothin' better to do…"

          "But you're so good at it!" Mixmaster sang out happily from where he was himself setting benches.

          Longhaul whipped an end-cap at him, but missed.  "At least you guys are stuck slinging on this job.  See how _you_ like it."

          The chemist threw it back with a grin.  "I could stand the mindless tedium if only I had interesting co-workers."

* * *

          "You guys got any plans for the whopping three days off, or are you going to work through it and get paid obscene amounts of money?"

          Scavenger set the side-guardrail into place, then shook it slightly to make sure it caught properly.  "No plans.  Normally I'd just keep working, but I'm finding the idea of time off more appealing by the day."  Robots could run low on energy, but they couldn't be truly tired, and nor could they feel pain.  The Constructicons found themselves torn between nine million years of programming and the fact that after four weeks of aluminium-slinging their physical forms were protesting.

          "You got a week to decide.  Of course, no plan is better than some," said Melissa, handing him another guardrail.  "I know Dave intends on spending it drunk on his cottage pier.  I say what good is a day off if you can't remember it?"

          "What are you doing, then?"

          It was too late in the day to have the energy to chuckle self-depreciatingly.  "Day One will be blown at the Reference Library.  Day Two will be spent doodling and, if I have the energy, hanging out with my friends.  Day Three will be probably be spent watching B-movies and dreading the thought of returning to work.  Nothing exciting, but I'll be conscious to enjoy it."

          The conversation paused as both went back to the skid to collect more guardrails.  Then, "'Reference Library'?  Where's that?" asked Scavenger.  Hook had mentioned an interest in finding such a place, but he didn't have time since they reached the city.

          "Block north of Yonge Station…  Blast.  Could you lift that step for a minute?  This dumb thing's not going in."

* * *

          "Hnh, this might turn out to be more interestin' than we thought."

          On the last day of work before the three-day break wherein the stands would actually be in use, Rhodes had managed to convince Longhaul and Bonecrusher to accompany him to a strip-club.  Mildly curious as to what their coworkers spent so much of their time talking about – and trying to keep up the appearance of humanity – they agreed.  Mixmaster, finding time weighing heavily on his hands, decided to tag along.  He was also the one doing most of the complaining.

          "What _are_ you talking about?  All humans look the same to _me_."

          "You have to pay attention to the details, Mixmaster," said Bonecrusher.  The Constructicons were used to identifying people by colour, build, and size… which works fine when one deals exclusively with Transformers.  However, from their viewpoint, humans were all the same basic size and build, and insisted on changing their colours every day ( the Constructicons changed their clothes for the sake of hygiene, but tended to stick with their preferred purples and greens. )  "See, like this one has a pointier chin, this one has higher cheekbones…"

          Rhodes gave him a funny look.  "You're looking at their _faces_?"

          "We shoulda brought Hook or Scrapper," said Longhaul.  "Structural comparison is more their thing."  Rhodes gave up and left, heading to another part of the club.

          Mixmaster looked around critically.  "Hmph.  Since I paid to get in here, I in-intend on enjoying myself."  He walked away.

          "He stuttered," said Bonecrusher slowly.

          "Might have just slipped," countered Longhaul.  "He's been doing fairly well so far."

          The chemist waved the human who had caught his interest over.  "You are the dispenser of somewhat dangerous liquid substances, yes, yes?"

          Eddie the bartender looked up.  "Something like that.  You buying anything?"

          "Certainly," said Mixmaster, settling himself on a bar stool.  He waved a hand at the row of bottles.  "So, the point here is, what?  Flavour?  Speed of inebriation?"

          The bartender shrugged.  "Depends on the customer."

          "Ah well, just give me a taste of each.  I'll see what I can do with them."

          It was a weird request, but the black-haired man across the bar didn't seem to be particularly normal himself, even compared to the usual clientele.  Still, if he was paying for it…  "Any particular order?"

          "Nah.  Just start at the top."

          Finding an empty table ( one that they could keep an eye on Mixmaster from, ) Bonecrusher and Longhaul ordered drinks and settled in.  "What 'structural comparison'?" asked Bonecrusher.

          Longhaul waved a hand at the nearest dancer.  "Well, with us Transformers, there's all types – planes, tanks, cannons, whatever.  With humans, you just get 'em in male and female.  Hook's been doin' some reading; on the inside, except for maybe one or two components, humans are all the same.  Comes 'a being biological – Can't have so much variation."

          "Except in the cosmetic details is what I'm saying," said Bonecrusher.  "Still, it's weird."

          "What?  Organic beings?"

          "Ha!  That too.  I mean this whole set-up."  Bonecrusher looked around critically.  "Notice how it's only females performing and males watching?"

          The other shrugged.  "Biology.  It's some sort 'a reproductive thing.  Come to think of it, almost everything seems to be some sort 'a reproductive thing with humans."

          "Probably because their lifespans are so short."

          "Makes sense…  What's he doing?"

          Bonecrusher looked over.  "Sampling the supply of drinks."  He shrugged.  "Looks like he's enjoying himself.  At least he's not ranting at anyone.  Where were we?"

          "Talkin' about culture-shock, I think," said Longhaul.  "You'd never get a place like this on Cybertron."

          "Yeah, nobody wears anything, anyway."

          "Shaddup, I'm lecturin'."  Longhaul took another pull of his drink.  "I meant biology-wise.  I mean, there's female Decepticons, but what does that mean?  Nothin'; it's just another identifier, like your transform or armour colour.  Why do we even bother with gender, anyway?  We don't use it for anything."

          The other shrugged again.  "Another way to tell people apart, like you said."

          "Maybe.  Still, someone had to think of it first."

          "If this is going to get metaphysical…  Ahh, scrap!" growled Bonecrusher, standing.

          "What?"

          "Looks like we have to bail Mixmaster out."  Bonecrusher and Longhaul went to the bar, where Mixmaster had fallen out of his seat and showed no indication of having any interest in getting up.  Bonecrusher tried to haul the smaller man to his feet.  It was like trying to pick up a cat.

          Eddie looked at the two newcomers.  "You know him?"

          "We probably know him better than he knows himself," sighed Longhaul, helping Bonecrusher.  "Blast.  Even on my day off I _still_ gotta carry things!"

* * *

          "… We'll check in at the Union Hall after this job is over, see what their story is."  Scrapper waved a hand at the sheaf of papers on the table.  "We'll see if we should join up or just keep doing what we're doing."

          Hook picked up one pamphlet at random to skim-read.  "Hrm, yes, we'll have to see about acquiring a business license while we're at it.  Be a bit stupid of us to be caught on a technicality."

          Drawn by the voices, Scavenger wandered into the kitchen.  "What's all this stuff?"

          "Trade magazines, union flyers, pamphlets on how to start your own business," said Scrapper.  "As long as we're here, we might as well…"

          "Oh, _Jasssss-perrrrr_!"

          "Scrap," muttered Hook, leaning back slightly in his chair to see out the kitchen door.  "What does that flesh-creature want _now_?"

          "She _is_ our landlady," Scrapper reminded him.  "Be nice."

          The engineer grumbled as he got up.  "I don't see why she never asks the rest of you to fix anything.  Scatterbrained, analog bink…  Good evening, Mrs D'Angelo," he said crisply when he opened the door.

          "'Rosalita', please," said the woman.  "Honestly, Jasper, you're always so formal."

          Of all the Constructicons, only Hook could get away with fully using his real name as part of his human name, and tended to insist that his acquaintances use it.  Not that he had any intention of explaining his reasons to his landlady.  Still…  _I'll call you 'Rosalita' when you call me 'Hook',_ he thought, irked.  Aloud he said, "What's broken now?"

          "The track on my silverware drawer.  Come on; I'll show you," said Mrs D'Angelo, bustling back down the stairs.  Hook threw one last despairing look at the others.  Scrapper unhelpfully made a face at him and got back to his paperwork.

          A few minutes later the door banged open again, but there was far too much noise to be just Hook returning.  Scrapper and Scavenger looked up, then immediately ran over to where Longhaul and Bonecrusher were carrying Mixmaster between them.  "What happened?"

          "Human-style over-energization," grumbled Longhaul.  "Drunk.  You'd think Mister I'm-A-Genius-Of-A-Chemist would know better, but _nooooo_…"

          Scrapper sighed.  "Just drop him off in his room.  The chemicals should wear off naturally.  Then come back down here; I want to talk to you two."

          They did, and a few minutes later the four Constructicons were gathered around the kitchen table.  "Hook and I have been working on this for a while, gathering information," Scrapper explained.  "That's the story we told to the fellow who runs the Indy site – that we're trying to start our own contracting company, but are new to the area and are working general sites to build our contacts."

          "Hey, clever," said Longhaul.  "How long you two been working on this?..  And where is Hook, anyway?"

          "Where do you think he is?  Mrs D'Angelo borrowed him again," chuckled Scrapper.

          Scavenger waved a hand at the papers on the table.  "Why spend time on a cover story?  We _should_ be working on a way to get our old bodies back."

          The architect shook his head.  "It's been five weeks, and the spell hasn't worn off or been lifted.  We might be stuck like this, Scrounge."

          "That reminds me – _he_ stuttered," Longhaul said reluctantly, jerking a thumb in the direction of the ceiling.  "Might 'a been nothing, but he got drunk by trying to sample everythin' in the bar…"

          Scrapper took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it out slowly.  "You were right to tell me.  Thank you."

* * *

          "Good morning."

          "Shut up and pour."

          Hook gave Mixmaster a malicious grin, but handed him a mug of coffee before finding another for himself.  "If memory serves, _you_ were the one who complained most bitterly about the human tendency to poison their systems with chemical additives."

          "Did it for business, not fun," grumbled Mixmaster, voice uncharacteristically flat.  In ordinary circumstances, he sounded slightly high, as if he had been inhaling the substances he worked with.  Now, with a hangover, he actually sounded sober.  "Wanted to learn how to mix drinks; could only do that by analysing them."

          The engineer chuckled.  "You're an idiot, Maxwell."

          "_What_ did you call me?"

          "Blast.  Mixmaster, sorry."  Hook shook his head.  "We've been human too long if I'm automatically referring to you by your alias."

          Mixmaster sighed.  "I called Longhaul by his human name yesterday morning and he yelled at me.  Rightly so.  Frankly, Hook, I'm getting scared."

          _"You?"_

          "Errg, not so loud," groaned Mixmaster, covering his ears.  "Look, just because I tend to giggle in the middle of sentences doesn't mean I don't notice what's going on around me.  When was the last time the group just sat down and talked?"

          Hook considered that.  "Almost three weeks ago, I'd say.  We haven't had time since we signed on with the Indy job."

          "Uh-huh, and now that we _do_ have time, where is everyone?"

          "I don't know," said Hook.  Then it sank in: "I don't _know_!  This isn't…  I didn't even notice…"

          Mixmaster gave him a nasty smile, but couldn't hold the expression.  "I didn't think so."

          The engineer glared at him.  "I think I like you better when you giggle."

          "Me too, Hook.  Me too."

* * *

          "Don't touch that!"

          "What, you think I'm going to detonate it?"  Mixmaster made a face at Hook before setting the lid back on the pot.  "The only volatile thing around here is _you_.  For its part, the sauce is rather bland."  He started rummaging around in the refrigerator, ignoring Hook's glare, then gave up and left.

          Scrapper peered into the kitchen.  "I just saw Mixmaster with a thoughtful expression, and that usually means trouble.  At least he's feeling better.  Are you trying to cook again?"

          "Obviously, though this time I'm using the proper equipment," said Hook archly.

          About ten minutes passed before the door to the flat banged open.  Hook sighed.  "If that's Mixmaster, make him go away."

          Scrapper peered out the kitchen door.  "It's him."  Then he ducked into the living room.  Hook and Mixmaster were both obsessive-compulsive perfectionists, but they had opposite ways of achieving their ends.  Both also had wills like steamrollers; if the two were going to clash, it was best to just get out of the way and wait for the smoke to clear.

          "Hello!" called Mixmaster happily.  "Goodness, I just had to _mention_ to our nice landlady that _you_ needed this stuff…"

          "Don't encourage her," directed Hook.  "And whatever that stuff is, I don't need any of it."

          "Say you.  Which one of us is the trained chemist?" asked Mixmaster.  "Come on, I'm not going to hurt your stupid recipe.  My senses are much more accurate than yours in this sort of situation, and they tell me that this spaghetti sauce would be greatly improved with a bit of garlic, salt, and cheese."

          "Get out of here!"

          Hook tried to bodily shove Mixmaster out the door, but the chemist managed to duck and throw the engineer over his shoulder, causing him to land heavily on the floor.  Hook lashed out with a foot, knocking Mixmaster's feet out from under him.  He then proceeded to drag the chemist out of the kitchen by his ankles.  However, as soon as he turned to walk back, Mixmaster grabbed him and tossed him at the couch, knocking over an end table in the process.

          Drawn by the noise, Scavenger ran in from the next room to find Scrapper leaning against the wall, watching the others fight.  "What _are_ they doing?"

          Expression neutral, Scrapper said, "Cooking."

          "Maybe we should order pizza."

          Mixmaster managed to pin Hook facedown on the floor, twisting his arm behind his back.  "Say it!  Say it!  Say I'm the 'Iron Chef Cybertron'!"

          "Arrgh!  You're a cross-wired loony!"

          Shooting a nervous look back at the combatants, Scavenger asked, "Should we stop them?"

          The architect chuckled.  "Why?  They're having fun."

          _"'Fun'?"_ demanded Hook.  "Get this moron _off_ of me!"

          "Submit to the will of fresh-pressed garlic!" shouted Mixmaster.

* * *

          "Looking for something?" asked Scrapper.  The literal translation would have been closer to, _You've run in and out of the room four times in as many minutes, and you're making me twitchy._

          "_One_, Scrapper.  Some_one_."  Mixmaster took a quick look around – Scrapper was working on a drawing, Hook was reading, Longhaul and Bonecrusher were watching some movie – then, "Does anyone know where Scavenger is?"

          From the couch in front of the television, Longhaul shrugged.  "Isn't he in his room?"

          "Looked there first-first-first," began the chemist quickly, then visibly checked himself.  In a forcibly even tone, he said, "No.  I looked there first."

          "He's a Constructicon," said Bonecrusher.  "He can't be in too much trouble."

          Very calmly, very carefully, Mixmaster picked up a chair and smashed it against the wall, causing the others to jump at the sudden noise.

          "What is _with_ you?"

          "Me, Hook?  _Me?_" demanded Mixmaster, savagely kicking the remains of the chair.  "What's wrong with _me_!?  _Why_ am _I_ the only one who sees a problem here!?  _Where_ is Scavenger, and _why_ aren't you worried?  Didn't _any_ of you notice that he was never alone?  Quiet, sure, but always hanging around in the background?  _And why aren't we trying to get our real forms back!?_"

          "We don't know how to…"

          _"When has that ever stopped us before?"_  Roughly, Mixmaster grabbed Scrapper by the shoulders and hauled him up to his eye-level.  "We _need_ the gestalt," he said tightly, voice barely above a whisper.  "I've held on this long; I've had practice.  Scavenger can't."

          "We started as separate beings," Hook began, not entirely convinced with his own words.  "In theory, the adjustment should be possible.  You've been doing very well, for instance…"

          Mixmaster shook his head and let Scrapper go.  "Theory isn't practice, Hook.  Scavenger hasn't adapted at all.  He needs Devastator, needs to feel he's part of something more than himself.  You all know that."

          "He hasn't had the nightmares since we arrived in the city," said Scrapper.  Scavenger wasn't exactly agoraphobic, but he preferred the steel and concrete of a city or the darkness of a mineshaft to any natural setting.

          "Not as bad, and only because I've been staying with him."

          "Say what?"

          "It makes him happy," said Mixmaster.  "Goodness knows he wasn't getting any sleep otherwise; he does better if someone's there, just as reassurance that he's not alone.  Besides, he's warm."  And looking after Scavenger gave Mixmaster a reason to stay sane.

          "I don't know," said Bonecrusher slowly.  "It's a bit weird, isn't it?"

          Mixmaster arched an eyebrow, but then, he was always looking for an excuse to do so.  "'Weird'?  Hrmph.  At least _I'm_ confident enough in _my_ sexuality not to worry about such things."

          Pinching the bridge of his nose, Hook sighed, "You're a robot… sort of.  You don't _have_ a sexuality."

          "And I'm perfectly confident in it," agreed Mixmaster happily.  The Constructicons had no interest whatsoever in physical intimacy, not with humans and not with each other.  While there was an undeniable physical component to their inter-group relationships, it wasn't at all sexual.  They had been a gestalt and had no interest in settling for a purely physical union where they once merged minds.

          Scrapper punched the chemist in the arm to get his attention.  "Could we stop talking about _you_?  We're supposed to be talking about Scavenger."

          "And we're doin' exactly what he was worried about," Longhaul interjected suddenly.  "Look at us; we're discussin' him, but he's _not here_.  That's _not_ what we do!"

          The Constructicons fell silent, each looking away from the others and fidgeting.  Finally, Hook said, "He's right.  This isn't us.  We could always merge and sort things out through Devastator's mind before.  And now that we can't merge, we're drifting apart."

          The architect stood.  "That's it.  I'm going to go find Scavenger so we can _all_ talk this over."

* * *

          "Hello, Scavenger."

          Scavenger looked up from the table in the diner with no small amount of surprise.  "Starscream?  Rumble?  Did Megatron send you?"

          Rumble settled himself at the other side of the table.  "Nah, Soundwave did."

          "How is that better?"

          "_I_ sent _myself_," said Starscream, with a quick glare Rumble.  "But Soundwave's on our side.  He can't leave Megatron, but he wants his true form back and will help us any way he can."

          The Constructicon looked disbelieving.  "How?"

          "Right now he's convinced Megatron that we're up here in Canada checking out a place called AnnanTech," said Rumble.  "We _are_, of course, but we're mostly up here lookin' for you guys.  See, Starscream has an idea…"

          "Rumble, be quiet.  Scavenger, take us to the others.  I don't want to have to repeat myself."

* * *

          They ran into Scrapper on their way back to the boarding-house, and soon Starscream and Rumble found themselves the centre of the Constructicons' attention.  Starscream quickly filled them in on the situation.  "I know we're not all friends here, but now more than ever we need to pull together."

          "We _can't_ pull together; that's why we left," said Longhaul.

          "Stuff it, techie; you know what he means."

          "Stick it in your audio receptor, runt."

          "Rumble, Longhaul, behave," directed Starscream.  "Listen, Constructicons, we can gain access to the apparatus to remake our Transformer bodies and mind-transfer equipment through Soundwave.  Can you build it?"

          Scrapper snorted.  "Of course we can."

          "But will a technological solution even work?" asked Mixmaster.  "The curse is magical, and the two don't seem to mesh nicely."

          Bonecrusher shook his head.  "I say we track down the flesh-creature who did this to us and force him to change us back."

          "Ooh, right, five Decepticon warriors couldn't touch him, so a bunch of humans is gonna to get him to reverse the spell," taunted Rumble.  "Sheesh, I think squishy brains are sappin' your intelligence."

          "If this were a fairy tale, this whole curse would be to teach us a lesson; 'Be kind to the flesh-creatures', perhaps," said Hook.  "Of course, _we've_ been _quite_ nice to the humans and we're still stuck in these forms."

          "All _I've_ learned is that I hate being organic," growled Starscream.

          _To be continued…_


	4. It's Only Love

**It's Only Love**

          She had nothing against humans.  She just hated _being_ one.

          Stormcloud was left more in the lurch than the rest of the Decepticons – until she was changed, she'd never even _seen_ a human before, except in pictures.  She hadn't been on Earth for three hours when suddenly she was a member of the dominant species.  Fortunately, she was being given a tour of the Decepticon base by Skywarp and Thundercracker when it happened.  Twenty minutes earlier and the Seekers would have been chasing each other through the sky.

          She had other problems as well: Transformers were robots, and therefore asexual – their gender was no more important than their colour and was simply another identifier.  Stormcloud had never seen herself as particularly different from her male counterparts.  Her build was a typical Seeker jet; no lighter, no more graceful or curved than Skywarp and Thundercracker.  As a human female, differences were quite obvious.  Sway – a female Insecticon and formerly organic being – could explain a few things to her.  Others she couldn't; she was an insect before, not a mammal.  Fortunately, Stormcloud had read up on the subject and was therefore not caught unprepared by the certain less-pleasant aspects of being female.

          If that wasn't bad enough, two months of being human was clouding her judgement as well.  She found herself having… well… physical reactions to certain others.  Nothing major, nothing noticeable to an outside observer, but enough to unnerve her when it happened.  It didn't occur to Stormcloud that any of the others might have the same problem around her, so she didn't mention it.

          Just then, one of her largest problems decided to enter the room.  By human standards, none of the Decepticons were particularly attractive; their faces were too harsh, their bodies too angular, and their overall air of antiquity and agelessness tended to unsettle the humans around them.  Conversely, the Decepticons found the humans to be too soft and undeveloped ( "Sort of like grubs," Sway had said ) for them to have any physical interest in them.  Skywarp was one of the few of their number whom humans didn't seem to mind.

          He wasn't any better-looking than the others – too thin with a vulpine face that couldn't be called handsome – but he was enjoying himself and it showed.  The same pleasure was in the Insecticons as well, but it wasn't particularly new to them.  _Everything_ was new to Skywarp, and he wanted to experience it all.  Despite the situation, he loved life, and it looked good on him.

          Currently, he was leaning against the doorframe, waving a colourful piece of cardstock.  "We got a postcard from Onslaught!  Ahem: 'Dear Decepticons, We hate you.  Love, the Combaticons.'  They're such sweeties."

          "At least they're surviving all right," said Stormcloud.  "Has there been any word from the Stunticons?"

          "None.  Soundwave's still looking, but they might be hiding themselves on purpose."  He shook his head.  "You know what's _really_ weird about this whole set-up?  We've got the one who refuses to talk as our receptionist."

          Stormcloud laughed.  "No, Soundwave has Reflector answering the phones now.  It's incredible to watch – he can carry on four separate conversations at once.  Maybe more, but the most I've seen is four."

          "Makes sense," agreed Skywarp.  "Reflector's usual thing is to be running around in three _bodies_, but I've seen him control several more than that.  Fielding multiple phone calls is nothing."

          "It must be very strange for him, having only one body," said Stormcloud.  "Not that it isn't strange for the rest of us.  The gestalts can't bind, Soundwave… has his own problems…  We're all tiny and soft and stuck with one form.  I'm _female_, for crying out loud!"

          "That never bothered you before."

          "It didn't _mean_ anything before!"  Stormcloud kicked a chair in frustration.  "It doesn't look as if any of you male Decepticons are having any problems…"

          Skywarp tucked the postcard into a pocket of his jacket and settled himself more comfortably against the doorframe.  "Are so.  For instance, did you know that fried okra tastes truly awful?"

          "Not problems like that.  _Reacting_ to people strangely for no good reason.  Wanting to be close…  Close physically, I mean," she added lamely.  The Insecticons weren't much help explaining things in this direction, tending to focus rather heavily on decapitation.

          "What, you've suddenly fallen in love with the entire army?"

          She bit her lip.  "Not the entire crew.  And not love.  We don't have a word for it and I'm not sure of the human term.  It's a purely physical reaction."

          Skywarp spread his hands.  "You've lost me.  I mean, I like being physically close to Thundercracker, but he's been my best friend since… well, about ten minutes after we first met."  He slept in Thundercracker's room more often than he did in his own, simply because he didn't have much time to be near him during the day.  Besides, Thundercracker looked so endearing first thing in the morning, all grumpy and dishevelled… not that Skywarp was going to say that to Stormcloud.  It wasn't any homosexuality taboos ( which he wouldn't understand even if they were explained to him.  Despite his human form and the fact that he used the male pronoun, in his own mind, Skywarp was asexual, ) that kept him from being completely open with the other Seeker, it was simply that some things were private – Thundercracker wouldn't like to look vulnerable in front of Stormcloud, therefore it wasn't Skywarp's place to mention a vulnerability to her.

          "I've had time to become acquainted with the crew, and for the most part I can get along with them.  But it's only been two months.  It hasn't been enough time to develop a true rapport with anyone."  For a human, maybe, but Stormcloud didn't know that and her time-sense was still Cybertronian.  Two months was nothing to a being who had lived for five million years.  "I _shouldn't_ have strong feelings about anyone!  Especially not bizarre human feelings that have no Transformer equivalent and have no attachment to the mind or emotions!  And you standing there looking concerned isn't helping!"

          Concern turned to confusion.  "What?"

          "You're… attractive, Skywarp," said Stormcloud slowly, uncertain of the terminology.  "It makes it a bit difficult to think around you; physical signals keep getting in the way."

          "Slight raise in internal temperature, finding yourself watching the person instead of concentrating on what you're supposed to be doing; in extreme cases feeling as though your internal structure has been knotted?"

          Stormcloud nodded.  "Yes.  It… happens to you as well?"

          "Yes."  He'd told Thundercracker much the same thing within a week of the change.

          The female Seeker took the admission the exact wrong way though, closing the distance between them and slipping her arms around him.  Not sure what else to do, Skywarp returned the embrace.  He hadn't meant Stormcloud, but was quickly becoming interested.  He knew there were physical differences between the genders, but it hadn't actually meant anything before.  She was soft, for one thing, and the scent was different…  Despite the fact that he didn't really have any emotional attachment to her, he was intrigued.

          Skywarp pulled away with a quick smile.  "I have to finish showing the postcard to everyone," he said.  "I'll come back later.  This might be… interesting."

* * *

          "You're up late."  When Thundercracker didn't reply, just kept staring out over the city, Skywarp took it as his cue to fill the silence: "You weren't in your room.  I thought I'd find you up here, though.  Thinking about flying?"  Thundercracker could often be found on the roof, leaning on the railing and brooding.

          "Where were you last night?"

          It was the tone more than the question that stopped Skywarp.  "I was with Stormcloud.  Why?"  To an outside observer, it sounded worse than it was.  The Decepticons were still, for the most part, uninterested in the idea of physical relationships.  Even despite a complete lack of body-consciousness, they preferred to wear clothes – not just for the practical considerations, but because they liked the colours and found the monotone of human flesh dull.  Sleeping together was merely that; any meaning came from the fact that it left one vulnerable.

          "I thought so."

          There was no inflection to Thundercracker's deep voice.  Worried, Skywarp laid a hand on his arm.  "TC?  You okay?"

          Thundercracker shook him off.  "You were disloyal to me.  Being alone is one thing.  Being with someone else is another."

          "Oh, for…  I've spent time with other people before, Thundercracker.  So have you."

          "Not like that.  Not close."

          Skywarp pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Of course not.  We weren't human until a couple months ago."

          The other turned on him.  "_This isn't about physical reactions!_  It's about depth of relationships.  You're my _companion_, Skywarp; you tell me things you would never share with anyone else.  I've seen aspects of you that no one else even suspects.  And you gave part of that to Stormcloud."  Thundercracker started past him, but paused a few steps away.  "You can either be with me or be with everyone else _but_ me."  He disappeared back into the building, leaving Skywarp alone on the roof.

* * *

          Thundercracker paced his room, clenching and unclenching his fists.  _I'm jealous.  That's not right; I don't get jealous._  Skywarp had other friends and it never bothered him before.  And it wasn't like Skywarp truly _betrayed_ him; his short tryst with Stormcloud was only physical.  Physical wasn't important.  He overreacted.

          But Skywarp was _his_.

          He stopped pacing, pressing his fists against his temples, trying to stop the train of thought.  Each knew he could always go to the other for sympathy, encouragement, or just to complain about his job – it was a _comfortable_ relationship, and Thundercracker was finding himself increasingly uncomfortable with it.

          But Skywarp didn't see anything wrong with what he did; he even admitted to it.  And there _wasn't_ anything wrong with it.  It wasn't as if he were sharing a trauma, or leaving himself vulnerable to blackmail, or otherwise opening up emotionally or intellectually.  It was just…

          _Skywarp.  Is.  Mine._

          Thundercracker sat down, squeezing his eyes shut, as if he could force his mind to shut up.  Great Cybertron, it was bad enough that he was of two minds about the whole Decepticon cause, now his unhelpful little mental voice was getting possessive.  Possessiveness in interpersonal relationships was _not_ a Decepticon trait.

          _You're not a Decepticon, Thundercracker.  You're human._

          "Shut up."  As if vocalising would stop his own mind.

          _But that never works, does it?_ he asked himself.  He _needed_ Skywarp.  Skywarp could always make the doubts go away.  His confidence and attitude were infectious, and he always had an explanation for whatever Megatron's plan of the week was.  And he had a smile that could make Thundercracker forget his own name…

          _Stop it!  That has nothing to do with anything!_

          _Doesn't it?  How about the fact that before a smile was just an indication of an emotional state?  Face it, Thundercracker – you're human and slave to human biology.  And biology plays a big part in human interpersonal relationships._

          _I am a DECEPTICON!_

          Thundercracker's doubts quieted down, but only because he was too tired to think.  Exhausted by his internal struggles, he curled up and fell asleep.

* * *

          A low growl caused Thundercracker to jump slightly as he walked down the hall the next morning.  Turning, he saw Ravage peering around a corner, and he favoured the panther with a scowl.  Ravage divided his time between curling up under Soundwave's desk and roaming the halls.  While he still retained his Decepticon intelligence, he had no way to communicate.  Thundercracker was sure he could still 'talk' to Soundwave though, however that might happen.

          When he turned to continue on his path, Ravage growled again.  Fed up with the universe in general and the spy in particular, Thundercracker snapped, "What?"

          Ravage blinked twice because Thundercracker's annoyance couldn't _possibly_ be directed at him, then licked a paw to show he didn't care anyway.  Then he turned away, walked a few steps, looked back, and waited.  Thundercracker repressed a sigh and followed the big cat to Soundwave's office.

          The panther padded in and settled himself by Soundwave's right hand.  At a gesture from the dark man, Thundercracker reluctantly shut the door behind him.  Reflector wasn't in yet, and the Seeker didn't really want to face Soundwave alone.  He was strange enough as a Decepticon; as a human, he was downright creepy.

          Of course, it was Thundercracker who had to break the silence.  "What do you want?"

          "You enjoy being human?" asked Soundwave.  Thundercracker decided he was never going to get used to Soundwave's human voice; it wasn't quite as deep as his own, but it had a strange strained quality, as if his throat was perpetually dry.  Every word was a growl, a bizarre contrast to his usual, modulated tones.

          The question was almost an accusation.  Thundercracker immediately took the defensive: "Of course not!"  Soundwave waited, and even though his voice was wrong, his silences were still impossible to wait out.  The Seeker looked away.  "Sometimes I forget," he admitted quietly.

          "Skywarp enjoys being human."  It was a flat statement.

          "Skywarp could be turned into a brick and he would find some way to like it," said Thundercracker, angry at Soundwave for bringing the other up, at Ravage for pulling him from his brooding, at Skywarp for his disloyalty, and at himself for perceiving it that way.

          "Change his mind.  Use any means necessary."

          If either were purely human, with human minds, the statement would have been insulting.  As it was, Thundercracker laughed at it, short and bitter.  "We had a fight last night, but I'm sure you already know that.  He's not listening to me right now."

          Thundercracker had worked with Soundwave long enough to know that nothing in the Decepticon base was ever truly private.  If Soundwave or the cassettes didn't hear you, Reflector would see you, or there was a security camera…  As it was, Soundwave _did_ have most of the common areas in the office building bugged, but not the roof.  Not that he let on that he didn't actually know about Skywarp and Thundercracker's argument.

          If the two weren't talking, then Soundwave's chances of converting Skywarp over to his side were almost nil.  Skywarp didn't really listen to anyone except Megatron and Thundercracker, and it was Megatron's ridiculous scheme that Soundwave was trying to circumvent…

          Except…  Except that Skywarp and Thundercracker were a package deal.  Losing Thundercracker would make Skywarp miserable soon enough, which could be used against him.  And if the two made up, then Thundercracker could try to sway him.

          All this passed through Soundwave's mind in a matter of seconds, and none of it reached his face.  Instead, he merely nodded a dismissal to the Seeker, who gratefully left.  _Then_ Soundwave allowed himself a faint smile, reaching down and scratching Ravage's ears.

* * *

          _I shouldn't have done that,_ Stormcloud thought, staring blankly at her computer screen.  Remembering where she was and what her current task was supposed to be, she added, _I shouldn't be doing this, either.  I have work to do._  She typed a few sentences, and got stuck.  _Look, you stupid creature, you've already blown one assignment; don't blow this one, too._

          She hadn't meant to get that close to Skywarp.  It wasn't her intention to get close to any of them.  Her place was merely to be an air warrior, to serve her cause, to fight and even die to fulfill her function.  She was a soldier – the threat of termination always hung over her… and the others, too.  Getting friendly with her fellow warriors only meant sorrow later.  And getting close to one's superior officer was _never_ a good idea.  Some friendliness so they don't pick on you, but nothing too tight.  _Skywarp's so new to being the Air Commander.  I wonder what will happen if he ever has to order Thundercracker into certain destruction?.._

          Then, _Oh, slag!  Thundercracker!  What does he think of my 'borrowing' Skywarp?..  Nah, he's probably fine with it.  He seems like an understanding one – being human probably hasn't messed him over like it did me._  Still, probably better to avoid her fellow Seekers for a few days, if only to give herself time to sort things out in her own mind.

          Idly, Stormcloud wondered if Sway was free later.  She wanted someone to talk to, and, irrationally, she wanted to talk to a fellow female.

* * *

          Thundercracker was pulled from a dream in which something tore off his wings by a knock at his door.  Shaking off the nightmare, he sat up and called quietly: "Who is it?"

          "Me.  Open up."

          Skywarp.  A pang of betrayal almost made him pull the covers over his head and go back to sleep.  But, he was already awake and despite Skywarp's typically abrupt greeting, a slight tremor was in the voice.  Thundercracker got up, pulled on a robe over his nightclothes ( for warmth more than propriety, ) and opened the door.

          Skywarp's mouth twitched into a brief smile, but settled back to a more tense expression.  "Hi.  Can I come in?"

          Without speaking, carefully holding his expression neutral, Thundercracker stepped aside to let the other past.  Skywarp walked in, paced the room twice, then stopped.  "Aren't you going to say anything?"

          "You look awful."

          "_You_ stay up for twenty-eight hours straight and see how good _you_ look," retorted Skywarp, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, though the tone wasn't bitter.  He shrugged.  "I had work."

          Curbing the urge to be sympathetic, Thundercracker asked, "Megatron's got a new scheme?"

          "No.  My own fault; I couldn't sleep last night so I did paperwork."  He sighed, twisting his hands in his lap.  "Listen…  Thundercracker, I'm sorry.  I got so wrapped up in testing my new senses that I…  No, no excuses.  I spent the night with Stormcloud and didn't even bother to consider your feelings, and it's been tearing me up since you told me off."  He looked up then, his customary assurance gone from him, waiting.

          He didn't have to wait long.  Thundercracker crossed the room immediately, pulling him into a tight embrace.  "You're forgiven.  I was terrified you wouldn't come back…"

          "Shh, shh, I'm here, I'm not leaving."  Skywarp stifled a yawn.  "Okay, maybe I am, but I'll be back in the morning.  Maybe I can get some sleep now that I'm not tying myself in knots…  Hey!"

          "Sit down; you aren't leaving and I can't get your shoes off if you're standing."  Thundercracker pulled one of the laces, then smiled up at him, almost shyly.  "You're always taking care of me.  Let me return the favour for a change."

          Skywarp sighed, but gave up.  "You've _got_ to be kidding.  All I do is get you in trouble.  Then _you_ get me out of it.  How on Cybertron did _I_ end up with the Air Commander promotion and not you?"

          "You believe in the Decepticon cause, I… sometimes forget that I do."  Skywarp could always make his doubts go away, a fact that not only made Thundercracker's life tolerable, but saved it on a number of occasions.  Megatron didn't like to be questioned, especially when the question was 'Why?'.  He pulled off Skywarp's other shoe, then carefully set both aside.  Skywarp probably wouldn't be able to find them in the morning – he was of the type who believed the floor was just one big shelf.

          Since Skywarp spent most nights in Thundercracker's room anyway, he accordingly kept most of his clothes there as well.  A few minutes of searching located his friend's pyjamas – black, like most of his wardrobe – which Thundercracker tossed to him.  "There.  Get changed and go to sleep.  You need it."

          A trace of his usual mischief flashed across Skywarp's face.  "What?  You're not going to help me?"

          "You don't need help."

          "Indulge me.  Besides, I like the feel of your hands on me."

          Thundercracker, surprised ( and pleased, which added to his surprise, ) answered automatically: "You're bizarre."

          "And you like it," agreed Skywarp, unoffended.  "Come here."

* * *

          For reasons that she didn't entirely understand, Stormcloud found it fascinating to watch Sway eat.  Specifically, she was surprised such a small creature could pack away so much food and not show any effects.  Sway gave the impression of being tall, mostly because she tended to hang around Kickback, who was shorter than she was.  Once you saw her alone, you realised she couldn't be much over five feet.  On top of that, she was… Stormcloud paused, and decided on the term 'sinewy.'  Sway was graceful, but it was the grace of a warrior rather than any feminine trait.  She wasn't pretty by any stretch of the imagination – a face like a hatchet and a body to match.

          To her annoyance, the more solidly-built Stormcloud found herself envying the Insecticon's ability to eat anything she pleased and not gain any weight.

          Stormcloud pushed that aside.  Sway was the only other female Decepticon in the area ( there were two more Insecticon females in Bali, ) and Stormcloud found she was more comfortable talking to her than any of the males.  She wasn't sure if Sway actually enjoyed her company or if she just showed up because Stormcloud paid for the food.  You could never be sure with Insecticons.  "So you're saying these… physical responses… are a _breeding_ urge?"

          "Mm, pretty sure," agreed Sway.  "You should ask Kickback.  He, hmm, knows more about humans than any of the other Decepticons here."  Shrapnel, Bombshell, and Kickback had actually been active in Indonesia for four hundred years before the Decepticons found them again.

          The Seeker didn't want to ask Kickback.  Kickback was male, and the thought of talking to him about such a topic made Stormcloud uncomfortable.  Well, more uncomfortable than she already was with it.  "So have you and Kickback, um…"

          Sway arched an eyebrow.  "I don't see how that's any of your, hmm, business, but for your information, no."

          "Oh.  I just thought…  I mean, you two are always together…"

          "Insecticons stick together, and Kickback's my, hmm, friend," said Sway.  "Mm, besides, I'm a dragonfly, he's a grasshopper.  Incompatible species."

          The Seeker tried to understand, and failed.  "But you're both human."

          Sway gave the other a long look of total incomprehension before turning her attention back to her breakfast.

* * *

          "Okay, I'm here.  What's up?"

          Thundercracker motioned to the seat across from him and waited for Skywarp to sit down.  "We've got to get out of here."

          "But I just arrived," protested Skywarp.

          "That's not what I meant."

          'Here' was a dingy café several blocks from the current Decepticon Headquarters.  More specifically, 'here' was a quasi-secluded booth in a corner.  Not that they were entirely unnoticed by the assorted clientele; the simple fact that they were wearing business clothes made them stand out.  "Why _are_ we here, then?"

          "If I know Soundwave, he's got the office building tapped top to bottom."

          The conversation was quickly put on hold as the waitress arrived and delivered coffee.  Skywarp waited for her to leave before asking, "What's wrong?"

          "Skywarp, I have to get out of the army."

          "What?"

          Thundercracker fiddled with his coffee, but didn't actually drink any.  "I can be a Decepticon.  I can tolerate being human.  I can't be both."

          "Why not?  Thundercracker…"

          "I've tried.  I've failed.  I can't do it," said Thundercracker.  "In our true forms, I had my wings.  We were practically immortal – if we weren't killed in a fight, we had a chance of seeing the end of the war, going back to Cybertron…  As humans, we're fragile.  We won't last fifty years.  We can't go home, even if we win."  Skywarp was actually built a few years after Thundercracker was, and the open, worried look he currently wore made him seem even younger.  In Cybertronian terms, it was negligible.  Human, it was suddenly important.  He clasped Skywarp's hand, oblivious to the dark looks some of the diner's patrons sent his way.  "There's no point in fighting any more.  And I want you to come with me."

          Skywarp took his hand back.  "I can't.  I'm the Air Commander now, I've got responsibilities…"

          "'Warp, listen to me: Your title means nothing and you know it."  Thundercracker sighed.  "It's over.  Sooner or later the Decepticons on Cybertron – or the Autobots – are going to figure out what happened to us, and I want to be as far away as possible when they come looking."

          "All right," said Skywarp.  "Say you left.  What do you do then?"

          "I'll find the Constructicons and become a welder!" snapped Thundercracker.  "I don't know – I don't care.  I just want to get away from Megatron and his stupid scheme."  He settled down, resting his elbows on the table and his face in his hands.  Feeling a hand on his arm, he looked up.  "_Everyone_ is ready to walk out, Skywarp.  They're just too scared."

          The other raised an eyebrow.  "'Everyone'?  What about Soundwave?"

          "He lost most of his cassettes; what do _you_ think?" asked Thundercracker.  "He asked if you enjoyed being human, and when I said 'yes', he told me to change your mind."

          "_Soundwave's_ running the mutiny?"

          Thundercracker paused, pensive.  "Probably not a mutiny; he's too loyal to Megatron.  He just wants his true form back.  Probably thinks that if everyone gangs up on him, Megatron will have to stop his current plan."  He shrugged.  "Who knows what Soundwave thinks?"

          The waitress came by to refill Skywarp's coffee mug; Thundercracker still hadn't touched his.  Eventually, Skywarp said, "I won't report any of this to Megatron.  I should, but I won't.  But I have to stay.  Agree or disagree, Megatron's still our leader.  I still follow him."

          Silence fell for a few seconds, then Thundercracker sighed.  "I can't leave without you.  I don't agree with you, but if you stay, I stay."

          Skywarp smiled and leaned across the table to kiss him lightly on the forehead.  "Thanks, TC.  You're the best friend an ex-giant shapechanging robot could…"

          "All right, I think we've had quite enough of you two."

          The Seekers looked up with some surprise at the large man glaring down at them.  With genuine confusion, Skywarp asked, "Are we doing something wrong?"

          "I'll say," sneered the man.  "You've gotten a bit touchy-feely for our tastes."

          "Why not bother _them_?" asked Skywarp, indicating a couple in another corner who were attached to each other with a leech-like tenacity.  "What _they're_ doing doesn't even look hygienic."

          A ham-sized hand clamped itself firmly to Skywarp's shoulder and hauled him to his feet.  "And what _you're_ doing isn't natural, so I suggest you…"

          He never got the chance to finish his suggestion.  A splash of still-steaming coffee blinded him, one hand caught his collar and yanked him back, another socked him in the jaw, and a kick caught him in the midsection, knocking him into a table… all in about three seconds.

          "Humans," growled Thundercracker, rubbing his fist where it had intersected with the man's jaw.  "I can never decide whether I pity or despise them."

          "My hero.  Next time, _I_ get to pick the restaurant, TC."

* * *

          Thundercracker turned away from the window.  "So much for thinking I could blend into human society.  I have no idea what rule we broke, but it seems to have been a big one."  He sighed.  "Lousy customs.  Lousy planet."

          "It hasn't been all bad," said Skywarp.  They had retreated to the relative safety of Thundercracker's room.  Skywarp was lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to Thundercracker grumble and pace.  After a few minutes, he sat up and said defensively, "It hasn't."

          "Earth in general or our current condition in particular?" asked Thundercracker.  Skywarp shrugged, so the other returned to his pacing.  With a noise of frustration, he suddenly stopped.  "I _hate_ this!  I hate this lousy body and everything that comes with it!"

          Suddenly Skywarp was beside him, one hand around his waist, the other stoking his hair back.  "Everything?"

          "Almost everything," amended Thundercracker, but he stepped away.  "I admit, some of it is enjoyable.  But every day I'm thinking more like a human.  This isn't _me_."

          "Listen to me, listen," murmured Skywarp, cupping Thundercracker's chin to force him to look into his eyes.  "Decepticon warrior, pyramid-Seeker, Earth-style jet, human – no matter what your form is, _you are_ Thundercracker."  He smiled faintly, not his usual smirk but an unguarded – almost uncertain – expression.  "And you're my companion.  No matter what the rules are, I love you."

          _I know that.  I've always known that._  But he couldn't reciprocate the smile.  "I'm scared, Skywarp.  Everything's different…"

          Skywarp kissed him, lightly.  "It's only different bodies, TC.  We're used to that."

          "But…"

          "We're still who we always were inside," Skywarp said reassuringly.  "Our minds are the same – the emotions haven't changed, just the expression of them."

          Thundercracker broke away from him, turning to the window and bringing his fists down on the sill.  "It's more than that!  We can't fly, we can't go back to Cybertron…  What's the _use_?  Why do we stay with _him_?  What's our stake in it now?  _Skywarp, tell me I'm doing the right thing!_"

          "Shh.  My poor, dear Thundercracker, of course you are."  He slipped his arms around Thundercracker, smoothing his hands down his chest until they were loosely clasped around his waist.  _What are we doing here?  We're not Decepticons, not part of the war…  Just because I don't know the answer doesn't mean there isn't one.  Megatron always has a reason for doing things, even if I don't always understand them._  Everyone needed faith in something; Thundercracker trusted Skywarp to give the Decepticon cause meaning, and Skywarp trusted Megatron to be right.  There was a reason for why Megatron wasn't working towards finding a counter to the curse.  There _had_ to be a reason – the alternative would be unbearable.

          Unfortunately, he didn't actually _know_ the reason.  Skywarp sighed, resting his head on his friend's shoulder.  "Probably because a project that big would catch the attention of the Autobots, maybe even tip them off as to what happened to us.  Megatron doesn't want to risk it until we've made a big energy haul through our business dealings."

          "That makes sense, I suppose…"

          "Of course it does.  Trust me."

          _To be continued…_


	5. Never Surrender

**Never Surrender**

          Size _does_ matter.  Especially when one is six feet tall and one's equipment is built for someone twenty feet tall.  All their equipment could be set to accept voice-commands, but that only went so far.  Skywarp settled back slightly in his chair in the new Decepticon Headquarters – an office building in California – and said, "I think we're going to have to risk it and call Cybertron."  Certainly ladders could be set up to reach consoles and tabletops in the currently-abandoned underwater Decepticon base, but that didn't mean they could lift tools designed for much larger, stronger beings.

          "We could build a menial, like we made a jet out of a body-shell," said Megatron.

          "Not without the Constructicons," rumbled Soundwave.  It wasn't true, but no reason to remind Megatron that most of the Decepticons had sufficient technical knowledge for a simple rework job…

          Megatron bit back a noise of exasperation.  "Then find them."

          "Impossible," lied Soundwave.  He had, in fact, tracked down the Constructicons almost two weeks ago, at Starscream's request.  Starscream and Rumble were with them now ( in Toronto, Canada, where they had scammed lab space from the AnnanTech Corporation, ) trying to come up with a way to get the Decepticons back into robot bodies.  Unfortunately, Megatron would try to stop them if he heard about it; he wasn't enjoying being human, but he _did_ like how well his plans were going.

          The plan was a simple one, and Megatron spent some of his time kicking himself for not thinking of it as soon as the Decepticons woke up from their four-million year hibernation: They would trade some of their technology for natural resources to be sent to Cybertron.  None of their more impressive equipment, of course, and certainly no weapons, but many minor things that Decepticons took for granted were the next best thing to magic to a human.

          And, for once, the plan was _working_.  Moreover, the Autobots had no idea what was going on.  There were still a few spy-bugs in the Autobot Base, and Megatron had made a minor hobby of watching his enemies come up with wild theories about what happened to him.  It was a temptation to drop hints or just call them up and gloat, but it was too dangerous.

          However, most of the army was ready for mutiny, seeing the curse as the final straw, but hadn't left because it was safer to stay with Megatron.  He had a plan and they had no idea how to function in human society.  Still, if there was a chance they could return to their proper forms, they would take it, Megatron be damned.  Soundwave himself, ordinarily the most loyal of the army, had been working since the curse set in to find a cure.  However, Soundwave could help the likes of Starscream and the Constructicons better from a position of power, so he continued to work for Megatron… mostly.

          Skywarp was probably the last one who was truly loyal to Megatron, with no hidden agenda.  He was one of the few who actually enjoyed being human.  But then, Skywarp had always been…  Soundwave searched for the word: Flighty?  Hedonistic?  He was a being who ran on emotions, and now that he had physical counterparts to those emotions, he wanted to try _everything_.  Of course, Thundercracker was generally miserable in human form, and Skywarp's enthusiasm wouldn't be able to hold out forever in the face of that.

          Still, Soundwave found it a difficult balance to be loyal to Megatron whilst being disloyal to the current plan.  Mostly he tried to make the scheme seem impossible, in hopes that Megatron would give it up.  Unfortunately, it didn't seem as if he intended to any time soon, which meant Soundwave was in just bad enough a mood to make a suggestion.

* * *

          Rumble didn't like the Constructicons on the principle that Soundwave didn't like them, but he found them interesting to watch.  Even if they had never been a gestalt, they still would have nine million years of experience with one another.  The Constructicons worked with barely a word passed between them, yet each knew exactly where his place was and what he was doing.

          For another thing, they were always touching each other.  Rarely more than a pat on the arm, but it was there if you were looking.  It hadn't been there when they were robots, or else Rumble just never noticed before.  It was the gestalt at work, as well as it could in the circumstances.  Talking could cover at least some of the mental bond, but they were used to having a physical tie as well.  The thing was, it didn't fit any human model – The contact wasn't familial, and was too close to be just friendly.  It was intimate, but completely void of any sort of sexual undertones.  It was simply something they _did_, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

          It probably was, for them.  Contrast that with, say, Starscream, who hated any kind of physical contact.  The Constructicons were a gestalt, Starscream was a Seeker, aloof and preferring his own company.  _Heck,_ thought Rumble, _contrast all 'a that with me._  As a spy-cassette, Rumble was used to spending a good chunk of his time folded up snug in Soundwave's chest.  Now he was fighting the urge to ask someone for a hug.  Not, of course, because it would make him seem weak.  It wouldn't – why would a robot have hang-ups about his perceived masculinity?  No, it was simply because Rumble didn't like any of the others enough to want to be that close to them.

* * *

          There was no gentle way of asking.  Scrapper mentally kicked himself – the Constructicons were _always_ open with one another.  Just because they couldn't bind didn't mean they couldn't talk to each other.  With that in the forefront of is mind, he pushed open the door.

          Mixmaster looked up and waved.  "Ah, good, if you didn't come to me, I'd have had to find you.  I've finished the calculations you wanted."  They were only going to remake one of their forms on Earth – Scrapper's.  He had the combination of technical skill and rank that could get him use of one of the factories on Cybertron, no questions asked.  Everyone else could then be remade properly.

          The architect took the proffered page, but didn't look at it.  "You've been doing… well."

          The chemist's smile faded.  "And you want to know how I've managed it.  I'm fine if I've got something to do.  At first I had to focus on adapting to human form, then the Indy job kept me occupied, now Starscream's little plan, and watching over Scavenger is practically a full-time job…"

          "You can't always be busy," Scrapper nudged, not unkindly.

          "There is… another way," said Mixmaster quietly.  "I started to slip during the break in the Indy job, and accidentally found a way to stay focused."  Carefully avoiding Scrapper's gaze, he reluctantly rolled up one of his sleeves.  The bicep was crisscrossed with a network of scars in various stages of healing.  "Pain works.  It… it gives me something to focus on or I'll just sca-sca-_scatter_.  Scatter," he corrected himself harshly, digging his nails into his palm.  "Scatter."

          Stuttering had always been the first symptom of Mixmaster's strange insanity.  Technically, he was never actually sane, but he could fake it – He _knew_ he was crazy, but he also knew what normal was, and, as such, could force himself to act it.  The gestalt balanced him.  Or, if he had a set task, he could focus on it.  Without anything to do, his mind would start to wander, and he would stop thinking about how to act and just give in to his own warped programming.  If there were other stress factors, the process was that much faster.  It was a slippery slope; in his saner moments, he fought against his madness, but as it took hold, he would give himself up to it.  If he was fighting, it was a good sign.

          Scrapper leaned down so their foreheads touched, resting his hands on his friend's shoulders.  "Hold on.  Just a while longer.  You can – we know you can."

          The chemist managed a smile.  "Thanks."

* * *

          "Remind me to send a nice 'thank you' bomb to Soundwave for getting me into this."

          Kickback looked from Skywarp to Sway.  "Do we like Soundwave?"

          "Hmm, Ravage took a snap at me yesterday."

          "Close enough," agreed Kickback.  "Sure we'll remind you."  Skywarp rolled his eyes.  Insecticons weren't his first choice for a strike-force, but since it was a stealth mission, they were sent along: Kickback had a knack for talking his way out of situations and Sway was a expert warrior.  Skywarp was mildly nervous that he didn't have his teleportation powers as back-up, but smiled.  This would give him a chance to see how good he _really_ was.

          Their current assignment was a relatively straight-forward one: The Decepticons needed someone Transformer-sized to work the equipment in the underwater base and make energy shipments.  Unfortunately, every Decepticon on Earth was currently human.  Therefore they had to find someone who _wasn't_ a Decepticon.

          Technically.

          Skywarp looked at the university's door from the shadows.  "Electronic locks and surveillance," he said.  "Got any bright ideas?"

          "I've got something better," said Kickback, retrieving a small device from his satchel.  "A Class-Two frequency pulse-modulator override – my lock-pick of choice.  Scaled down to human-size, of course."  Just because he was human didn't mean he was limited to human tools.

          "A simple 'yes' would have sufficed," teased Skywarp.  Then: "If they've got someone watching the monitors, they'll see it blip."

          "Hmm, so?" asked Sway.  "If this, hmm, works, we only need secrecy on the way _in_."

          "And they might not check a minor malfunction, anyway," finished Kickback, already fiddling with the device.  After a few seconds, he said, "I've found the frequency; let's go."

* * *

          "Starting final phase of test fourteen."

          "Who are you talking to?"

          Hook jumped, located the speaker, then turned back to the console and continued working.  "Hello, Scrapper.  And I'm talking to a recording device.  I want a back-up of these tests."

          "We ran simulations all afternoon.  Everything works perfectly."  Scrapper paused.  "Have you found a problem?"

          "No.  All my trials show everything working at optimum levels.  But I want to be sure."

          The architect smiled.  "All this for me?  I'm flattered."  To the outside observer, Scrapper and Hook were rivals, constantly sniping at one another and questioning the other's plans.  Those closer knew better; both wanted to do things right and needed a harsh editor – of his own skill level or better – to catch mistakes before they happened.  Both complained bitterly if an error was pointed out, but they were glad of the system.

          "We would be incomplete without you, Scrapper."  Hook stopped to tap a few buttons at his station.  "Test fourteen complete.  No errors.  Setting up the next simulation."

          Scrapper caught his wrists and pulled the engineer away from the console.  "It's late.  You're tired.  The equipment might be working at its optimal condition, but you won't be tomorrow if you don't get some sleep tonight."

          "One more test…"

          "No," said Scrapper.  "Get going; I'll shut the system down."  The engineer nodded, and reluctantly turned to leave.  "Hook…"

          "Yes?"

          "If something… _does_… go wrong…"  He paused, then, quickly: "Take care of the others for me."

          Hook looked back with a faint smile.  "Did you really think I wouldn't?"

* * *

          "Ah, _there's_ our Sleeping Beauty."

          Kickback looked up at the stasis-tube.  "If you want to try to reactivate her with a kiss, Skywarp, be my guest."

          "I'm spoken for; I don't need a princess."

          The being in question wasn't a princess at all – the farthest thing from it in fact, for the being in question was the robot ninja Nightbird.  Skywarp turned to the Insecticons.  "Is there any way she could be sentient?"

          "How should _I_ know?" demanded Kickback.  "All I know about her is what little Bombshell told me: He boosted her power, tightened her response times, expanded her martial arts set, and gave her some basic instructions – Steal the World Energy Chip and attack anyone wearing an Autobot symbol."  Kickback shrugged.  "If Bombshell installed some learning protocols or logic functions, she might have a rudimentary intelligence.  Not sentience."

          "Good.  That ties with how she acted," said Skywarp.  Nightbird was a primitive construct by Decepticon standards.  It was rather fun to watch her work while she lasted, though, in about the same way that it was fun to watch a dog pretend to be human.  However, she was the right size, and since she wasn't sentient, she couldn't be a Decepticon.  "Open it up; we'll keep watch."

          Kickback scanned the stasis-tube with his pulse-modulator, then tapped the security code into the keypad.  Obligingly, the tube opened, revealing the prone form of the robot ninja.  Kickback scrambled up the equipment to sit on her midsection, then opened a panel on her chest to see if he could reactivate her.

          The power-booster was gone, though something kin to it was in its place – apparently the human scientist Fujiyama had studied the Decepticon technology and adapted it to suit his robot better.  It was just as well; if Starscream hadn't shot her, Nightbird would have probably burned out within the next hour or so.  From what he could see, her motor-relays seemed fine.  Kickback closed the panel and walked around to get a look inside her head.

          Not knowing exactly what changes Bombshell had done to the original design made Kickback's job rather difficult.  Not knowing the details of human-designed robotics compounded the problem.  The beam of his flashlight suddenly glinted off a fine silver mesh, and Kickback smiled to himself.  _This_ delicate little network he recognised – apparently Bombshell used a bit of cerebro-shell technology to serve as a type of learning protocol.  As Nightbird gained experience, the silver web would grow, connecting various parts of her simple mind.  The human scientist couldn't possibly remove it without destroying Nightbird's hard drive.

          The mesh seemed unbroken, which meant it was probably still functional.  "Skywarp," he said quietly to catch the other's attention.  "I think she'll work, but I won't know until she's had a recharge and I can check the connections."  With a quick glance down the hall, Skywarp left his position to tap in the necessary sequence.

          As power flowed into the robot ninja, Kickback checked another hand-held scanner.  Everything flowed; there were no tears in the net.  He grinned and looked down.  "Looks good, Skywarp.  I'll code in her new orders.  Once she's finished her recharge, we can get out of here."

          The Seeker nodded and went back to watching the hall while Kickback set about his reprogramming job.  _Should be easy enough, a simple voice-command protocol…  We'll key her to specific voices later; for now I'll just use mine…_  Absorbed in his task, Kickback didn't notice anything amiss until a gray hand scooped him up and unceremoniously dropped him on the floor.

          Skywarp turned at the sound of scraping metal.  "What the… Kickback?.."

          "Oops."

          Sway ran over to help Kickback, and quickly realised that there wasn't much she could do.  Not against a twenty-foot tall robot ninja.  She pulled Kickback to his feet, never taking her eyes from Nightbird.  "'Oops', hmm?"

          "It was nothing _I_ did; she got up on her own."

          Skywarp, who had dealt with Nightbird before, wasn't quite as worried.  He waved to catch the robot's attention: "Hey, up there!  Be a good cybernetic being and lie down again so you can finish your nice recharge and Kickback can finish your programming."

          Nightbird ignored him, methodically removing the various cables and wires that still attached her to the stasis-tube.

          The Seeker waved again.  "Stop that.  We're freeing you from your human oppressors.  You get to work for the Decepticons again."

          The ninja turned.  Skywarp smiled.  "That's right – Decepticons.  We don't look like much now, but we're here to help."

          It turned out to be the wrong thing to say.

* * *

          _"Nightbird?"_ sneered Starscream.  "So a combination of Decepticon programming and human _re_programming accidentally caused her to become sentient.  How sweet.  Skywarp had better watch out for his job."  Megatron had actually threatened to replace Starscream on a number of occasions, often with less flattering things than a mobile, humanoid weapon.  Still, Starscream had been in a bad mood at the time and Megatron just wouldn't shut up about his new toy…  Starscream shook off the train of thought.  It wasn't getting him anywhere.

          "It's more than that," said Rumble, grinning madly.  "She wasn't just sentient, she was _angry_.  When Skywarp told her who and what he was, she tried to step on him."

          Starscream raised an eyebrow.  "'Tried'?"

          "Seems she's a Decepticon at heart," Rumble said happily.  "Remember what that crazy wizard said – _'Any Decepticon who would do harm on Earth shall be made flesh.'_  So when she tried to step on that moron Skywarp…"

          It was some time before Starscream could get his voice back.  "She… she turned human!  Oh, that's too… too…"  He broke into fresh peals of laughter, and didn't stop for some time.

* * *

          Every day, Soundwave found more reasons to hate being human.  Currently his pet-peeve was the level of technology.  The Decepticons were able to take a few of their toys when they left the underwater base, but most were just too big for them to move.

          So it was with human equipment, tied into the underwater Decepticon Base's systems, that Soundwave performed his primary function: He _was_ a communications officer, after all, and monitoring enemy transmissions was his job.

          Today he found reason to be glad of his skill.  He tapped a button for the intercom and summoned Megatron to his office.

* * *

          "I feel like an idiot."

          "That's your human side talking; you're certainly _looking_ better," teased Mixmaster, helping Scrapper put on the assorted transfer equipment.  It was blocky and trailing wires, but it was metal and the Constructicons found its aesthetics more appealing than their soft human forms.  "In a few minutes, you'll feel like a new man… well, not like a man at all if all goes right."

          "I hope this works," said Scavenger, standing behind a console.

          "It _will_ work – The simulations worked," said Hook.  "Stations, everyone!"

          Mixmaster finished the assorted connections, squeezed Scrapper's shoulder ( one of the few parts not covered by metal and wire ) reassuringly, then went back to stand by Bonecrusher.  "It _will_ work," repeated Hook under his breath, then, "Longhaul, activate the machine."

          He hesitated, for the slightest instant, then pulled the switch.  "Connections all functional," reported Scavenger.

          "Power levels good," said Bonecrusher.  Beside him, Mixmaster twisted his hands together and muttered under his breath.

          Hook nodded and bit his lip, trying to watch his own console and Scrapper at the same time.  In theory, the equipment would transfer Scrapper's mind to the Transformer body they'd built for him.  It was possible; thought was just electrical signals after all, wasn't it?  He wasn't sure what would happen to Scrapper's human body once the download was complete, though – Would it go into some type of stasis, or would it just terminate, or…  He had read up on human physiology, but there was still so much he didn't know…

          The engineer looked back at the read-out on the screen.  The transfer was working.  Under the equipment, Scrapper's human form struggled to stay standing, but sank to one knee.  The read-out went wild an instant before the architect screamed.

          "Shut it down!" shouted Hook.  Longhaul quickly obeyed, then ran to join the others around Scrapper.

          Hook was there first and had the equipment off of Scrapper before the rest arrived.  The engineer sat on the floor, his friend gathered into his arms.  "Scrapper?  Come on; you've been through worse than this…"

          "Is he still… functional?" asked Mixmaster quietly.

          "Yes, but he's weakened.  And I _don't know what to do!_"  Hook's voice was muffled against Scrapper's hair, and his own fell so the others couldn't see his face.  "Come on, old friend – I'll never alter your blueprints again if you'll just wake up…"

          "Unngh…  Careful or I'll take you up on that," grumbled Scrapper.  "You're such a fret sometimes, Hook."

          "You would have panicked too if what happened to you happened to any of the rest of us.  And I am not."

          Scrapper allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and be supported by the others, all of whom were either expressing their happiness that he was uninjured or asking questions.  "Oof, one at a time.  I can't sort you all in this form."

          There was a brief pause, then Bonecrusher and Mixmaster both tried to talk at once.  They stopped, glared at each other, and promptly did it again.  This time, Mixmaster folded his arms and looked away petulantly, allowing the other the conversational right-of-way.  With a final scowl at the chemist, Bonecrusher asked, "What went wrong?"

          "If you allowed _me_ to go first, you wouldn't have had to ask that," snipped Mixmaster.  "_Obviously_ the curse extends to this; instead of turning Scrapper's new robot body human, his mind simply couldn't enter the robot body in the first place.  Simple."

          "Oh, shut up."

          "Please don't fight," pleaded Scavenger, clasping the hands of the other two as if he could settle their differences through the contact.  "Not real-fighting, anyway.  I can't take it."

          Longhaul asked, "Could there have been something wrong with the transfer equipment?"

          "Impossible," said Hook.  "I checked over the entire system.  Every simulation worked.  I physically went over every centimetre of wire twice.  I don't make mistakes."

          "You _didn't_ make mistakes," Scrapper amended.  "These human brains aren't as efficient as our Transformer minds were.  All the knowledge is there, but it's harder to access.  We forget things – remember your hand?"

          The engineer's automatic thought was to argue, but flexed his hand and decided against it.  He'd suffered a burn several weeks ago trying to grasp a hot pot handle, after forgetting he wasn't a robot.  Still, the reminder annoyed him.  "I'm going to check the connections again," he announced, walking back to where the bulk of the equipment was.

* * *

          "Impossible," said Megatron.  "There's no way they could have found out.  _None._"

          Soundwave tapped a few keys on his computer and played back the relevant conversation from the Autobot base.  Megatron scowled.  "How _did_ they find out?"

          "Unknown," said Soundwave.  He didn't like Megatron's plan, but the idea of being caught by Autobots while human was infinitely worse.

          Megatron angrily turned to pace the room.  After a few passes, he said, "They might have broken into our underwater base, but we removed all clues to our condition – they would think we just left suddenly."  This included deleting all communication records after the curse took effect.  "It's even possible that they found us as dealers in Cybertronian equipment.  But they can't know who we are.  Our aliases don't even _suggest_ at our true natures.  The entire situation is completely illogical – logic could _never_ have told them our condition…  The human authorities had Thrust and Dirge for a time, and they admitted their names.  Or they could have caught the Stunticons, which is why we haven't been able to locate them."

          He crossed the room, then stopped, glaring at the wall.  "It's possible that they found the time-gate, went back, and the human wizard told them.  It's more likely that one of our own is the informant."  He looked back at Soundwave.  "I know perfectly well that most of the Decepticons are… _unhappy_ with the current situation.  One of them might have snapped and informed them before thinking better of it."

          As usual, Soundwave looked impassive and waited for Megatron to speak again.  He did: "Everyone has a motive and everyone has had ample opportunity.  The culprit isn't going to be easy to find."

          "If there is one," Soundwave reminded him.  He knew the mood of the crew better than Megatron did and was sure none of the Decepticons would alert the Autobots to their vulnerable condition.  Of course, he couldn't divulge how he knew this without admitting his own role in it.  And, frankly, he was just as curious how their condition became known.  "Shall I continue to monitor?"

          Megatron hesitated, then nodded and left.  Soundwave was upset at the loss of his tapes, yes, but then, if he couldn't trust Soundwave, who could he trust?

* * *

          _It didn't work._

          Starscream sat in his room, face in his hands.  Ideally, he should have had a half-empty bottle of hard liquor beside him for the look of the thing, but he didn't drink.

          _It didn't work._

          The curse wouldn't let them return to Transformer bodies.  At all.  The only cure would be to get Bayorf to lift it, but he had no reason to.  They couldn't even force him to.  It was over.

          He was chained by gravity in a fragile body that wouldn't last another fifty years, forced to do disgusting things like eat, tormented by dreams…  He couldn't function as a human.  Deep within himself, Starscream knew that.  He'd already remade himself twice in his long life, but he had millennia to do it in.  He couldn't do it again, not in this form.  There wasn't time.

          Starscream buried his face in his arms and allowed himself to give in to despair.  Things had finally started going _right_ for him.  He ruled a planet… yes, it was Stormworld, yes, it was more a scientific mission than a conquest, but it was _his_.  His subordinates respected him.  There was so much left to do on Stormworld, and he wouldn't _be_ there for it!

          He paused, considering.  He _could_.  Stormworld could support human life.  He would have to make sure the microscopic life wouldn't be harmful, but he could call his people and…

          _… And…_  Starscream forced himself to stay sitting, to think his theory through: If the curse was specific enough to catch Nightbird – _'Any Decepticon who would do harm on Earth shall be made flesh.'_ – when she tried to step on Skywarp, maybe its effects wouldn't reach off-planet.  He could go back to Stormworld and have his technicians duplicate the Constructicons' experiment.

          Starscream had two major advantages over the other Decepticons: Not only did he have a friend off-world whom he _could_ trust with his life, said friend's transform was a spacecraft.  He wouldn't have to deal with Shockwave and space-bridges…

          There was one problem – Dreadmoon would actually have to _come_ to Earth.  If he were noticed, if he were forced to defend himself, the curse would tag him as well.  Starscream allowed himself a brief snicker at the idea of his second as a human, but stopped.  It wasn't a condition he would wish on an enemy, much less a friend.

          But it might be his only chance…

* * *

          "So what?" asked Thrust.  "Autobots like humans.  _We're_ human.  What can they do to us?"

          "Aside from step on us?" asked Blitzwing.  Megatron had called a general meeting, so the Decepticons had gathered.  Given the situation and everyone's feelings, he couldn't trust anyone.  The choice was either keep Soundwave's report about the informant to himself or tell _everyone_ – so he told everyone.  Hopefully the traitor would let himself slip.

          Soundwave had searched the Autobot's communication records and found the initial transmission: A male voice had simply stated that the Decepticons had been turned human.  Of course, the voice meant nothing – any of them had access to flanging equipment… or could even have bribed a human to place the call.  Fortunately, it would take a little while for the Autobots to track them.

          "They're Autobots; we'd probably just be locked away somewhere," said Skywarp.  "Not that I want to be locked away."

          Astrotrain snorted and jerked a thumb at a corner of the room.  "I want to know why _she's_ here.  She's not one of us."

          In the indicated corner was Nightbird, leaning against the wall, but somehow giving the impression that despite the relaxed pose she could spring into action at any moment.  She was still mute, but she could hear perfectly well and favoured Astrotrain with a dark look.  Not that she had yet given a friendly look to any of the Decepticons.  Megatron shrugged.  "She's the one person I'm _certain_ didn't betray us to the Autobots."  That, and the ninja had nowhere else to go – she had less of a chance of passing for human than the Decepticons did.  Nightbird may have been built by humans, but she knew nothing of them except that they had locked her away and kept her in stasis.  "Nightbird isn't a problem – the Autobots and our traitor are."

          "Bali," said Kickback, who waited for the attention to be on him.  "We could go to Bali."

          "And hide in a swamp," scoffed Skywarp.

          Kickback shook his head.  "Not hide.  We've done well for ourselves here.  I'm sure we can put together a private army.  Bali is an island; the Autobots will find it hard to attack, especially with _humans_ guarding it.  And we would still have access to our equipment through the Insecticon base."

          "What about Starscream and Rumble?  Or the gestalts?" asked Thundercracker.

          "The Combaticons can look after their fool selves and we still don't know where the Constructicons went or where the Stunticons are," said Megatron.  "Starscream and Rumble will be informed and given instructions to meet us there."

          _To be continued…_


	6. Off To See The Wizard

**Off To See The Wizard**

          "What?  _What!?_"

          "By yer reaction, I don't think I have ta repeat myself."

          On one hand, Starscream decided, it would be quite satisfying to deck Rumble for his insolence.  On the other, he still needed the spy's co-operation.  "It's _impossible_ that the Autobots could have found out about our condition!"

          "Megatron and them are pretty sure we have an informer," said Rumble.

          Starscream let out a screech of exasperation.  "But what Decepticon would be _stupid_ enough to give our enemies such a vast advantage?"

          "Wasn't me."

          "Did I say it was?"  With some effort, Starscream brought himself back under control.  "All right.  What does our Fearless Leader intend to do about it?"

          "The rest of the crew has moved to Bali – you know, Insecticon territory," said Rumble.  "Soundwave says Megatron's idea is to put together a human army and stand their ground.  The Autobots won't harm humans, and they'd have to if they wanted to reach the force."  Technically the plan was Kickback's idea, but Megatron had claimed it.  "We're supposed to get there as soon as we can."

          Turning to leave, Starscream said, "The Constructicons should be warned, at least.  They _have_ been helping us."

* * *

          "_You're_ Starscream?"

          "And I'm just sick about it if it makes you feel better, Autobot."  His general annoyance at being human was compounded by the fact of the method of his capture.  Starscream, Rumble, and the Constructicons had almost managed to get out of the country… except that their flight was expecting them.  The Autobots weren't stupid ( unfortunately, ) and after learning of the Decepticons' condition, it was nothing more than detective-work to trace them.  Starscream was still kicking himself for not recognising the Aerialbot commander Silverbolt.  _'Robots in disguise' my foot.  Cybertron, I'm such an idiot…_

          Jazz crouched down to get a better look at his captive.  In a few minutes, he might find the situation either deadly serious or hilarious, but for now it was so ludicrous that he couldn't help but stare.  The _attitude_ was certainly the Decepticon Air Commander, and the voice was recognisable anywhere, but the _form_…

          Starscream was about average height for a human male, with dark reddish-brown skin and jaw-length black hair.  His eyes appeared brown, but on a closer look were actually dark red.  He was about medium build, but seemed a bit thinner due to his angular build and the cut of his dark red suit.  He still carried himself like a Decepticon, with their air of superiority and conceit.

          The Autobot sat back on his heels with a sigh.  "Do you have _any_ idea how weird you just made my day?"

          "I can honestly say I've never felt more sympathetic towards you," said Starscream blandly.

          "And I suppose you don't want to divulge your big, secret plan?"

          "No, not really."  The Decepticon looked up.  "You can't keep me here.  I wasn't doing anything illegal."

          "Not your human activities, no, but you still got a list of Cybertronian war-crimes as long as your… well, as long as _my_ arm, anyway," said Jazz.  "And don't bother pointing out that you're not a Transformer.  Different bodies ain't nothing new to us.  You're still _you_."

          "I would never have known if you didn't tell me, Jazz.  What would I ever do without you?"  His tone was bored, but within himself, Starscream was worried.  Autobots weren't killers; the worst they would do was lock him away…  Except that Starscream thought of confinement as a fate worse than death.

          The Autobots had figured out that the Decepticons were selling Cybertronian technology, but they weren't sure of the extent of their activities.  Jazz stood then, considering.  "If you're functioning as human, you got ID.  Hand it over."

          "Or what?  You'll search me?"

          Jazz glanced at his too-large fingers, then shrugged and looked back over his shoulder.  "Hey, Sparkplug!  I need your help for a minute."

          Starscream gave the other man a look of contempt.  "Of course.  I forgot that the Autobots keep pets.  Don't _touch_ me."  He took his wallet from his jacket and tossed it on the floor.  "There.  Everything to do with my human identity is in there."  He crossed his arms and turned away.  "I know a hopeless situation when I see one."

          Sparkplug picked up the wallet and flipped through it out of curiousity.  "'Rashan Shastri'?"

          "I liked the sound of it.  So what?"

* * *

          The telephone rang.  Soundwave picked it up, listened a minute, grimaced slightly, and handed it to Megatron.  With some amount of foreboding, Megatron took it.  "Hello?"

          "This would be humorous if not for the fact that you're holding the island hostage."

          "Good morning to you too, Prime," grumbled Megatron, pinching the bridge of his nose in weary exasperation.  "I was under the impression that Autobots didn't gloat."

          "Just stating the facts, Megatron.  Let Bali go and surrender quietly."

          Megatron asked, "How can I let something go that I'm not holding by force?  Every human who stands against you is here of his own free will."

          "They serve you under false pretences."  A pause, then, "We've apprehended Starscream, Rumble, and the Constructicons.  I've sent one of my people to pick up the Stunticons."

          Megatron was surprised at the second piece of information ( the Decepticons had no idea where the Stunticons were, ) but wasn't about to say so.  "You think I'll trade them for Bali?  Never.  They knew the risks when they joined the army."

          "I knew you wouldn't.  I merely thought you'd like to know."  _Click._

          The Decepticon commander stared at the phone receiver for a few seconds in stunned silence that quickly gave way to indignant fury.  "He hung up on me!  That sanctimonious scrap-heap _hung up_ on me!  _Arrgh!_"

          Calmly, Soundwave picked up the abused phone from where Megatron threw it, and waited.  "That's it," Megatron snapped.  "I'll let the army take a few shots at the Autobots for their interference.  I know the damage they can cause is minimal, but the Autobots still won't like it.  Summon Skywarp."

          "No response," said Soundwave after a minute.

          Megatron counted to ten.  "Call Thundercracker.  He'll know where Skywarp is."

          And again, "No response."

_          "Where are my Seekers!?"_

* * *

          "Megatron is going to learn how to raise the dead so that he can keep killing us, TC."

          "Will you calm down?  If this succeeds, Megatron won't be able to touch us, not with the entire army on our side."  For once, the plan was Thundercracker's: The Seekers had taken the body-shell jet, dodged the Autobot sensors around Bali, and had gone back to England and the time-gate.  They landed the jet some distance away, and were walking towards the clearing.  "Besides, you're one of Megatron's favourites.  He won't punish you too severely."

          "Yeah, and you're not," grumbled Skywarp.  "It's not _me_ I'm worried about."

          With the Insecticons' equipment, Soundwave was able to monitor Autobot communications, and had learned that Starscream had given up in disgust and told his captors how their change from Transformer to human had occurred.  The admission couldn't do any more harm than had already been caused by whoever tipped the Autobots off that the Decepticons were human at all.  As such, the Autobots had sent out a small party of their own to the time-gate – Hoist, Warpath, and Spike, the ones who had travelled to the past, and Cosmos for transportation.  And it had given Thundercracker an idea.

          Thundercracker looked up.  "We're almost there, I think."

          Skywarp pulled him back suddenly, drawing him into his arms and covering his mouth with his own.  After a moment, Thundercracker asked, "What was that for?"

          His friend smiled faintly.  "One way or another, I'll never get to do that again.  I'll always remember you like this, Thundercracker."

          "The feelings don't change, just the expression of them.  Your words."  Thundercracker leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.  "Let's get this over with."

          "And hope we don't get stepped on."

          The Autobots turned as the two humans stepped into the clearing.  "Hi.  We're Decepticons, we're not armed, and we'd like to talk."

          It took a moment to recognise the voice.  "Skywarp?"

          "And Thundercracker," agreed Skywarp with a slight bow.  It might have been Thundercracker's plan, but Skywarp was the better speaker.

          "You're taking a chance coming out in the open," Hoist pointed out.

          Skywarp nodded.  "More than you know.  You could just step on us or arrest us or whatever, but that won't help you and yours – We might be human, but right now we're more dangerous to you than we've ever been."

          "Why tell us this?" asked Cosmos.

          "Easy," said Skywarp.  "We don't _like_ being human.  Problem is, this plan is working so well that Megatron won't let us look for a way to get our real forms back."

          "As long as he's loose in human form, your existence on this planet is threatened," added Thundercracker.  "He'll work from Bali, and the only way to get to him is to get through the human army first."

          "See, humans will do what _we_ say before they do what _you_ say, because even though you got their best interests in mind, you're still a big, alien robot.  Given time, with these forms we can turn the Earth against you," Skywarp finished.  "The only way you can avoid human casualties is to expose him for what he really is.  The humans will flee from him and we can get the war back to status quo."

          Hoist mulled that over.  It seemed counter-intuitive that full-size Decepticon warriors would be less dangerous than human Decepticon businessmen.  The problem was that Skywarp was right – humans would generally trust another human, no matter how warped, before trusting the alien.  Megatron could indeed take over the Earth… and he could probably even do it legally.  "What do you expect us to do?"

          Skywarp shrugged in the direction of the time-gate.  "We were hoping you could talk to the wizard."

          "And how am I supposed to find him?"

          Blowing holes in the landscape would probably work, but Skywarp decided against making the suggestion.  As soon as he had a chance, Skywarp had pulled Ramjet aside and bullied a decent order of events out of him.  The first time, Starscream's activities caught Bayorf's attention.  The second time, he appeared within minutes.  "I think Bayorf must have some kind of sensor on the time-gate so that it calls his attention when it activates."  Skywarp paused, thoughtful.  "Or his sensors are tuned specifically to Decepticons.  Actually, he probably expects us to come looking for him, so he'll definitely know if we arrive.  Take me along – I've never teleported through time before."

          With some misgivings, Hoist allowed the human to follow him.  At the glyphs, Skywarp looked up.  "You know how to run this thing?"

          "Yes."  He had triggered it by accident the first time, when he and Warpath were tracking Starscream's raiding party.

          Hoist tapped the necessary sequence and stood up, walking towards the cave mouth, Skywarp tagging along behind.  "Nothing happened, Autobot!  Where are you…  Oh, _wow_."  Skywarp shot out past Hoist and into the sunlight.  "Incredible!  I didn't even feel the shift!"

          "Get back here.  This was _your_ idea."

          Skywarp looked back at the Autobot and grinned.  "Are you in a hurry?"

          "Ah, friend Hoist.  Whyst have thou brought one of the bespelled giants?"

          Both Transformer and ex-Transformer turned at the voice.  Skywarp raised an eyebrow at Hoist, who nodded.  "I ask that you would lift the curse, Bayorf," said Hoist.

          Bayorf looked considering.  "Art thou sure thou wishes these warriors to return to their natural shapes?"

          "They're adaptable.  They're more dangerous human," said Hoist, exchanging glances with Skywarp.  The Seeker smirked slightly at the robot towering over him.

          "Very well," said Bayorf, raising his hands, then pointing at Skywarp.  Skywarp jumped as the light settled like a cloud around him, but when nothing happened, he relaxed.  "Whenst this one returns to his time, the spell will be lifted.  Good journey."

          The Autobot watched the wizard walk away, then shot a quick look at Skywarp.  The still-human Decepticon wasn't trying to hide his emotions: He was pleased, but there was an undertone of regret.  Skywarp looked at his hands, sighed, and let them fall to his sides.  "Let's go."

          Hoist led the way back to the time-gate.  It suddenly occurred to him that in a few seconds he was going to have a full-size Decepticon warrior standing next to him.  He needn't have worried.

          Skywarp – in two tons of sleek, black metal – barrelled out of the cave, almost crashing into Thundercracker.  The Autobots trained their weapons on the Seekers, but the Decepticons ignored them completely, looking down at themselves and at each other.

          Suddenly, Thundercracker let out a laugh of pure joy, and, shifting, took to the sky.  Skywarp looked back at the Autobots, smiled, shrugged, and followed his comrade.

          They watched until the jets were out of sight.  Warpath shook his head.  "I am _never_ going to understand Decepticons."

* * *

          The building shook as if the whole volcano was going to fall down.  "_What_ the..?" demanded Jazz, trying to keep his balance.  "If this is your Dinobots loose again, Wheeljack…"

          "Don't look at me," retorted the engineer.  "Grimlock and the boys are with Optimus.  The volcano must be erupting."

          Jazz staggered to a wall panel and punched in a sequence.  "The seismic sensors say it's not the volcano."

          "Think it's the Decepticons?"

          Jazz pulled him to his feet.  "With them human?  Are you kidding?"  Another quake shook the base, and this time, despite his efforts, Jazz was knocked to the floor.  "Not that I'd put it past them.  Let's go."  Getting back to their feet, the two Autobots ran down the hall to the holding area.

_          "Constructicons!  Transform and merge!"_

          "I _never_ like hearing that…" Jazz started.

          _"Duck!"_

          Wheeljack pulled Jazz to the floor as a silver jet streaked over them.  "What the blazes?..  Was _that_ Starscream?"

          "With Rumble hitching a ride, looks like," replied Wheeljack, standing again.  "Left without firing a shot…  Hey!" he finished as Jazz almost knocked him down again.

          Jazz shifted as he ran, covering the distance to the holding cells in record time.  "The Constructicons are gone," he radioed.  "Left a Devastator-sized hole, too."

          "How on Cybertron did they change back?  I thought they were stuck!"

          "So did I!" retorted Jazz, then sighed.  "Ah, nuts.  You might as well get back here and start the damage assessment, 'Jack, while I radio Prime."

* * *

          "We're back.  _We're back!_"  Ripsaw laughed, and the three Insecticons ( Ripsaw, Whiptail, and Tangleweb – Sway and Kickback were at the Insecticon base ) impulsively group-hugged Blitzwing, who shook them off.  Undeterred, they pounced on Astrotrain.

          "But how?" asked Stormcloud.  "Not that I'm complaining."

            "I don't care if Optimus Prime himself did this," declared Astrotrain, trying to detach the Insecticons from himself.  "If he did, I'd polish his chrome and smile while doing it."  The triple-changer flicked the last Insecticon off.  Their happiness unspent, they considered hugging Nightbird, and changed their minds.  Instead they each took a Reflector, who were incidentally too small to get rid of them.

          There was a faint commotion off to the side: "Aw, cheez, boss – Everybody's staring!"  They hadn't been, but Soundwave's answering laugh caught the Decepticons' attention.  Soundwave, for once, didn't care: As soon as his true form returned, he had tapped his eject button, and nearly collapsed with relief when Frenzy, Laserbeak, and Buzzsaw emerged unharmed to join Ravage.  Then he _did_ fall to his knees, but it was only to sweep his cassettes to him… much to Frenzy's dismay.

          Megatron, for his part, was furious that his plan had been ruined, and he dealt with it in his instinctual way: He blasted a hole in the roof, leapt to the air, and shouted, "Decepticons, _ATTACK!_"

          It took a minute for Megatron to notice that no one followed his order.  In fact, the others were all giving him looks ranging from incredulity to outright hostility.  Fusion cannon charged, he landed and swept his hand at the general assembly: "What _is_ this?  A mutiny without Starscream?  I said _attack_!"

          There was the faint sound of weapons being readied, multiplied by thirteen.  No one actually _raised_ their weapon, but the threat was obvious.  Megatron looked around quickly and found he was outnumbered: Only Soundwave didn't stand against him, but Soundwave wasn't paying any attention to anything but his cassettes.  Megatron took a step back, cannon at ready, and hissed, "Traitors."

          "You can't take us _all_ on," said Blitzwing flatly.

          Megatron trained his fusion cannon on the triple-changer.  "But if I take out the ringleader…"  He trailed off deliberately.

          Blitzwing snorted and put his sidearm away.  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you who the instigator was."  With that, he deliberately turned his back, shifted to plane-mode, and took off.

          One by one, the others followed until only Megatron, Soundwave, and the spy-cassettes remained.  After a minute, Soundwave gestured that his creations follow the others.

          The Decepticon Commander glared after his army, not moving until he said, "I suppose I can't punish _all_ of them."

          "No."

          "I _am_ going to find the traitor who informed the Autobots of our condition and turned my army against me," growled Megatron.

          "Not the same person," said Soundwave.

          Megatron looked over slowly at his lieutenant.  "You wouldn't know that unless…"

          "Convinced them to rebel against the plan, instead of against you."

          "You…"  Megatron stopped and clenched his fists in an effort to keep from lashing out.  "_We_ are going to talk about this – _in detail_ – later, Soundwave," he threatened, then took off in the opposite direction of the others.

          Soundwave stood quietly for a few moments, thinking his own inscrutable thoughts, before taking off after the army.

* * *

          It was a few hours before Thundercracker landed on a cliff overlooking the ocean.  He shifted as he landed, but his usual grace was marred by the fact that he collapsed laughing.  Skywarp landed beside him a few minutes later.  "Thought I'd never catch up to you, TC."

          Thundercracker lay in the grass, flat on his back, and stretched his arms as if to embrace the whole sky.  "I missed flying so much.  I can't believe I forgot how wonderful it was."  He let his arms fall back, then turned his head to look at Skywarp.  "Are you going to be okay?  I know how you liked being human…"

          The black Seeker sat nearby, grinning at his friend.  "Loved it, but losing it is worth seeing you genuinely happy again, rather than just forgetting to be sad."  Skywarp stood and looked out over the water.  "I have to know, though…  Was it you who told the Autobots about the curse?"

          The other shook his head.  "No, I just used it."

          Skywarp nodded.  He had hoped that was the case, but had to know for sure.  "We'd better check in with the base, make sure everyone else is okay."

          "If anyone's home yet, get them to do a general weather-check and see if we can get a round of storm-tag going."

          "We haven't flown in over four months," Skywarp reminded him.  "You think we're up to it?"

          Thundercracker smiled and got to his feet.  "With the mood I'm in, I could take on Omega Supreme."

* * *

          The isolation and boredom that went along with the Stormworld's Corridor Season tended to put the crew into bad moods, so Dreadmoon didn't immediately turn when he heard someone stomping down one of the station's halls.  "Starscream!"

          The Seeker held up his hand for silence.  "Don't start.  I'm going to recharge, then I'm going to go storm-flying, then I'm going to lock myself in my room and sulk until I feel like dealing with people again."

          With some effort, Dreadmoon quelled his initial reaction.  Instead he asked, "Shall I forward the last four months of reports to your quarters, Commander?"

          "The condensed version, unless there's anything of particular importance," said Starscream.  The monitor nodded, then turned to continue down the hall.  Starscream stopped him.  "Dreadmoon?"

          "Yes?"

          "On second thought, join me after I return.  I've had a _very_ strange time and I want to talk about it."

* * *

          Megatron was rarely in a good mood, but at the moment, he was in a worse one.  All he wanted to do was take his frustration out on someone, _anyone_, but it wasn't possible.  Starscream had gone back to Stormworld almost immediately.  Skywarp and Thundercracker had been the ones to ruin his plan, but since the rest of the army was on their side on the issue, taking it out on his wayward Seekers had a good chance of making the general discontent worse.  He would _really_ have enjoyed tearing into the traitor who sold them out to the Autobots, but he didn't know who it was.

          In the end, he settled for causing general destruction in a human city, which caught the attention of the Autobots, which in turn left him barely able to fly back to base.  The Constructicons had repaired him without a word.  It was another four days before he cooled off enough to track down Soundwave.  Yelling at Soundwave never got anyone anywhere.

          He found his lieutenant in the repair bay, working on a small purplish robot he didn't recognise.  "New cassette?"  Soundwave nodded.  "Where are the Constructicons?"

          "Cargo Bay Two."

          "Why?"

          "Devastator."  In fact, the gestalt robot had parked himself there as soon as the Constructicons had finished repairing Megatron, and ignored anyone who tried to communicate with him.  The Constructicons had a lot of catching-up to do.

          Which brought Megatron up on where all the Decepticons were.  The Insecticons had remained in Bali.  Starscream stuck around just long enough to get a recharge before going back to Stormworld ( he knew that if he stayed, he and Megatron would fight, and he didn't feel up to it. )  The Combaticons had returned to their desert base, after a vague warning about not letting such a stupid situation happen again.  As it turned out, the Stunticons had been arrested within hours of becoming human.  The Decepticons didn't know this until they heard the reports of their break-out.

          As for Nightbird…  Well, the robot ninja tagged along to the Decepticon Base.  Megatron, still in a foul mood, had reminded her she had nowhere else to go, to which Nightbird replied ( through sign-language ) that she had no interest in remaining with the Decepticons.  She owed them nothing – not even sentience, as that was an unintended occurrence.  Besides, she remembered how she was treated by Decepticons, Autobots, and humans alike – as property.  And just as she was waking to self-awareness, she was shut away.  It would have been an interesting fight to watch; Megatron shouting and Nightbird telling her side through gesture, but no one else saw it.  Everyone knew the final result, though: The ninja stormed out, despite having no idea how to function on Earth.

          Some hours later, Ramjet – on space-bridge guard-duty – reported that someone had snuck up, stunned him, and made an unauthorised trip.  Nightbird could never remain undetected on Earth… but she had a chance on Cybertron, and she was bright enough to know it.  Megatron wasn't sure whether to wish her luck or curse the day he ordered her reactivation.

          He turned his attention back on Soundwave.  "The crew was already in mutiny, so you took it over and redirected it?"

          "Yes."

          Megatron shook his head, one hand over his optics.  "Every time I think I've got you figured out…"  He sighed.  "Remind me to never underestimate you, Soundwave."

* * *

          Stormcloud paused in front of the door, then, reaching a decision, tapped the signal button.  At a muffled, "It's not locked," she opened the door and peeked in.  "Are you two busy?"

          "Drinking.  Talking.  Nothing we can't do for the rest of our lives," said Skywarp cheerfully, waving her in.  "I'd ask you to pull up a chair, but I'm all out.  Hang on…"  With a sweep of his hand, he cleared his desk and sat on that.  Thundercracker winced slightly at the added mess, but didn't say anything.  Very little could be done to make Skywarp's quarters any more cluttered than they were.  "Have a cube.  What's on your mind, Stormy?"

          She sat down, accepted the energon cube from Thundercracker, but didn't drink it.  "I wanted to apologise for the way I acted."

          "Everyone was acting strange.  Biological functions have such an impact on organic thought.  None of us knew how to handle it," said Skywarp.

          "Still, I shouldn't have come between you two."  Stormcloud looked down, fighting the urge to shuffle her feet.

          _You shouldn't have, but you did, and I can understand your reasons._  Thundercracker leaned forward slightly.  "The rest of the army seems to be on a general 'forgive and forget' policy.  No reason why we should be any different."  He held out his hands.  "Partners?"  After a slight hesitation, Stormcloud took his hand.

          Skywarp grinned and completed the circle.  "Belated welcome to the Decepticon army, Stormy.  The pay is lousy, the hours are worse, but you'll never be bored."

          **_The End._**


End file.
